Zombies Aren't Real Are They?
by MotherHeninFlorida
Summary: A girl named DeeDee fighting to survive in a world populated by Infecteds.
1. Chapter 1

**Part One** ****

I hate getting a lecture. I especially hate getting a lecture in front of everyone else even worse. They already think that I am the weakest one. This only makes them think it more. But I wanted this notebook. I wanted it bad and I don't care what anyone else thinks about it. I'm tired of having nothing to do but run and run and run. And when I'm not running I'm scrounging for food or other supplies the group needs and praying that I get a bit of what I help to find. Survival of the fittest and all that. The biggest and baddest always get their share first.

Well I wanted this notebook. It didn't matter that I almost got torn apart. It doesn't really matter that I got beat on again. Well, yeah it does but it was kinda worth it. And I didn't go down this time like I normally do. I felt righteous. I wanted something for myself and I got it for myself. I even got myself out of the jam without anyone's help. They just saw me get in trouble is all. But I got out of it before they could decide whether they were going to take the time to help me. That's what really stunk their britches up. That for once I didn't need any of them.

I mean but still. C'mon. Jerry is the one that beat the crap out of me yet I'm the one that Moses lectured. How totally unfair is that?! Sherry said that he was doing it to toughen me up, that Jerry didn't need toughening up. Geez. No kidding. The guy makes a raw hide dog treat look like soft cheese. She added her own bit of salt to my wounds by saying that if I didn't toughen up I was going to get left behind. But you know what? That is scaring me less and less every day.

Let's see, would I rather be chewed on by the monsters or chewed on by the monsters the guys are all turning into? Hard choice right there. I mean gross. Mr. Morris offered me an energy bar if I'd do something for him. Uh ... no ... don't think so. As in absolutely no freaking way in you know where. Mr. Morris is like this old guy in his 40s and I'm fifteen. You tell me there isn't something wrong with that particularly gross picture. And his breath makes me want to hurl big time.

Mr. Morris isn't the only one. Some of the girls go along with one of them when they get hungry or scared. Most everyone in the group still try and pretend nothing is going on but everyone knows. I mean come on, sound carries which in and of itself is a spectacularly nasty bit of information that needs bleach to get out of my brain. Only I don't have any bleach. The only thing of my own that I have I carry around in my backpack and I've had to fight to keep that a few times. And this notebook. I've got this notebook now too.

I've paid attention even though none of them think I have. They seem to think I am some kind of half-wit or something. Shows what they know. I notice a whole lot more than they give me credit for. For instance, I notice the girls and women aren't any less hungry or scared the next day after doing whatever the guys ask them to do so whatever they get from doing it doesn't last long. That's what my economics teacher would have called a high cost, low return equation. I may not have much but Mom said no matter what I could always have self-respect. Dad said self-respect and honor go hand in hand and they have to be cultivated. Going with one of the men would be like cutting my own wrists. I'm not that bad off. Not yet.

I wanna go home. I wanna go home so bad. I know there is no one there. I know it isn't really home anymore, but it is still a place I want to go see one more time before ... if ... I turn into one of the infected ones. I just want a picture of my family. Just a picture. I don't want to forget their faces and I'm afraid I'm starting to. Is it too much to ask for one stupid picture? Mom had cleaned out her purse that day so she could take her small one and so only had a few things with her. I just want a picture of us all together. Surely not everything has been destroyed. I'd even settle for that really bad family portrait we took when I was in sixth grade where Toddie has the leftovers from a broken nose and I'd just gotten my braces.

Maybe nothing has been destroyed. Maybe I could find not just pictures but enough other stuff that I could make it on my own ... or make it on my own until things get better. They have to eventually get better. They have to. But it is going to be awhile, probably a long while, so I need to be prepared for that.

We had camping gear in the garage and my bike is in there too; everything BUT the car was always in the garage. I could fly like the wind on that bike. I can go anywhere I want ... well maybe not anywhere but certainly someplace away. Or at least as far away as I can get. Maybe I could take Toddie's mountain bike and head towards that place we used to go camping; there's cabins and everything up there. I'm sure Toddie wouldn't mind. It isn't like he is ever coming home from college to get it.

God. Did I really just write that? God. My parents would kill me ... or not. Maybe they are all up there in Heaven together wondering what in the heck is taking me so long to get my crap together and my head screwed on right. I'm not a little kid anymore. I know I haven't done anything to shame them - not yet - but I haven't exactly done anything to make them proud either. I haven't been a hero and saved a bunch of people like Moses. I haven't found some huge stash of food like Sherry did although it is all gone now. I can't shoot a gun worth spit because my glasses are all scratched up. About the only thing they keep me around for is to help with first aid but they've got Doc for the important stuff.

And speaking of Doc, he's another one that is weirding me out lately. He used to be cool most of the time and weird only some of the time, now it is the other way around. He's always wanting to examine me to make sure the other men haven't been messing with me. Ew. He wants me to sleep beside him so he can "protect" me. OK fine, I'm young but I'm not young enough to be that stupid. Then he gets all weird when I do have to go off with one of the guys for scavenging and stuff. When I get back he's like all over me, asking rude questions, acting ... well acting all jealous and stuff. It's not just gross, it's embarrassing.

Sherry said it is because I'm the only girl that hasn't chosen a protector, temporary or not. So that's what they're calling it these days I say back to her. She shook her head and said I was acting too old for my britches again and if I didn't stop I was going to get into some trouble I wouldn't be able to run away from. Sherry ought to know. She used to be a real tough kinda person but then she mouthed off to one of the guys and he "put her in her place." She was hurt for a long time after that and a lot of the guys took advantage of her making her hurt worse. She's better now but not the same as she was and I get the feeling she'll never be the way she used to be.

Sherry is with Moses now. I guess it works for her because he treats her better than a lot of the women and girls get treated. Some of them are even jealous and try and take pokes at her but she has toughened up enough that she won't be pushed off from him.

I suppose Moses really isn't such a bad guy if you like the biker guy thing. But I don't think he ever wanted to be top dog ... or at least didn't want to be top dog the way he got there or of a bunch of "leftovers." He sure doesn't like some of the people in the group and would probably kick them to the curb if we didn't need numbers to keep us all alive.

Moses used to be a felon. Seriously. He told us he was like in the city jail waiting to be taken to the courthouse when things blew apart. But he is an honest felon. He doesn't mind that my dad was a cop. Geez that doesn't even make sense. I just mean he has his own code and sticks with it; you know his rules and follow them then you haven't got any problems. And even though he slept around ... alot ... before him and Sherry hooked up he never went after young girls and wouldn't let anyone take one if they were unwilling. That's probably the only reason I've been able to make it as long as I have. The men are all too scared of Moses to force me into anything.

But I'm not so sure they are scared enough of him anymore. Moses is getting tired and it shows. And he has to fight with the men more and more to prove he is top dog. I think he's been thinking of taking Sherry and moving on and seeing how far they can get on their own. I think Sherry has been thinking the same thing because I'm pretty sure she is going to have a baby; she pukes in the morning but no one says anything. There's a couple of guys who could probably take Moses' place if he does take off but I'm not sure how long they would last. Moses isn't what you would call book smart, but he is street smart. These others guys, I don't know; they think they are smart and talk about it alot ... which kinda tells me they aren't.

Crud, gotta run. Looks like the infecteds have found us again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two** ****

Finally. Three days of running this time. I betcha another horde is building up. They do that sometimes when so many get into an area. They get like this hive thing going on. They get smarter or more focused on the hunt when they get together like that. Dad used to complain that one or two bad guys could be handled but when too many got together in the same place at the same time with the same purpose it made for a whole lot bigger mess to deal with. Toddie used to say stupid stuff like, "The whole is greater than the sum of the parts." But I think it might actually make sense about this stuff. Kinda like the gangsta' kids at school. Dealing with them one on one wasn't so bad. You didn't want to deal with them when they got into a group because it was like they fed off each other's bad energy and it made them worse together than they would have been separately. So bottom line, if there is a horde you want to be someplace else and someplace else quickly.

I'm so tired I should be sleeping while I can. But I can't. I'm too hungry. The men split the last of the food we had up between them and now if you want to eat you have to ask one of the guys for something. Only you know what they want, what you'll have to sell to buy a little sustenance to keep you going. Doc acts like it is only a matter of time before he can persuade me to let him examine me. He said if I let him he'll feed me up good. No way in H E double hockey sticks. Even if I was desperate I sure wouldn't give myself to some druggie. Two days ago I caught him popping pills during the run. I thought that might be what he was doing before but now I know for sure. If Moses finds out he'll drop Doc over the side of a building. Head first. Drunks and druggies are like the absolute worst. They'd rather be high than alive. They always seem to be doing things that attract the puss brains' attention.

Lucky for me everyone else is just as tired as I am and they're all sleeping. All of them. No guards tonight. If we had them you can bet they'd fall asleep on duty. So we barricade ourselves in and do the best we can. We've had to do it before and it worked out ok. Just doesn't feel right this time. That's another reason why I can't sleep. It feels like bugs are crawling all over me.

There is enough moonlight tonight that I'm going to write as long as it lasts. Try and settle my nerves. And then I'm going to decide.

First off how did this whole mess start? Don't know. Don't care right now either. Don't have the time or energy to care. All I know is that whatever this mess is, it took my family away and left me running for my life. I do know it seemed to pop up all around the world at the same time. Doc - before he got really creepy and weird - used to talk about how impossible the odds were that something like that would occur naturally.

In other words a lot of people think - not that there are a lot of people left to think it - that it was some kind of bio-terrorism. And maybe by that totally punked up eco-terrorist group, the ones that think (or thought) that humans were like a plague on the planet and that there were way too many of us around. If that's the truth bet they didn't expect for things to go quite like they have. Instead of people plaguing the planet we have zombies plaguing the people. Yeah, yeah. I know they aren't real zombies but close enough all things considered. They have heart beats and all that but the infecteds are way strange, like mutants or something.

I was out shopping with Mom when everything went to pieces. We'd come to the city to try and find a thrift store that had a "modest" homecoming dress; or at least one modest enough that it wouldn't give Dad a heart attack and have him following me to the dance in his cruiser with the lights flashing and the siren going off. He wasn't real happy about me dating to begin with but I told him it wasn't like I was dating, that it was only one date; one date was not dating. He didn't appreciate the difference. But it was also hard to say anything because the boy that had asked me to the dance was Kingsley "for Pete sake call me Lee before someone hears you" Berio who just happened to be the sheriff's son.

Lee wasn't a bad guy. Actually he was one of the good guys. But I know for a fact the only reason he asked me out was because he could say that he had to, that his dad had made him. It would have been a lie; the sheriff may have suggested it but he would not have made him. But it kept Lee out of hot water with the three popular girls that had been fighting over him since the year before. Of course being a guy he didn't realize getting him out of hot water only got me into it. Wow they were awful and I got backed up in the bathroom a few times by those nasty she-cats. I didn't care - well I did but not enough to tell Lee no when he asked me. No one had ever asked me to a dance before and Lee was one of the older, popular guys in school. I was a freshman and it would have been so cool to go to the dance with a junior.

Never got the chance which sucks. And I suppose they're all dead now. That would make me sad if I didn't think they were the lucky ones. So long as they aren't you know, stumbling around like puss brains and stuff. Better to get chewed up completely and get it over with. Sometimes when you are fighting one off you can tell they aren't far enough gone that they've stopped feeling pain. That's harsh. So you try and do what you gotta do as quickly as possible. Just don't look in their eyes. Makes for fewer nightmares that way.

Anyway Mom and I had gone to the city that day. It had to be a thrift store because dresses were expensive and Toddie's grant had ended and if he worked more than twenty hours a week his grades nose-dived. Dad and Mom had agreed to help him for one more year but after that he was either going to have to find another way ... like another grant or scholarship or internship or something ... or he was going to have to come home, sit out a semester or two, and save up the money on his own. He was the one that had chosen to go away to university instead of doing his first two years at the community college so Dad figured he was going to have to be responsible for what the savings account my grandparents left him didn't cover.

I had found THE perfect dress. It fit all the parameters Dad had said it had to. It wasn't too expensive. It covered all the vital bits both top and bottom, front and back. It was age appropriate without making me look like a little girl ... not like that was likely because my boobs had finally come in over the summer ... or making me feel like someone's granny which was actually a bigger worry for me. And it wasn't skin tight or made from animal print. It also couldn't be hooker red or funeral black or hoochie momma orange. Yeah, my dad really said that. He didn't just say it, he wrote it down so I couldn't possibly pretend to forget any of it. I still have the note in a little bag I carry around my neck. It also says "Love Dad" which is more important to me than the other stuff. Dad was a good hugger but saying the mushy stuff was hard for him so when he did you really remembered it. I'm glad I have that part to actually see. My dad loved me and I'm totally cool with that.

The dress was a couple of seasons out of date and had been worn by more than one person but I didn't care. I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it on the hanger. And it was the perfect color too. Mint. I'd always wanted a mint colored party dress. Of course Mom hated the color but had to admit that Dad would probably approve. Then again he was the man that didn't think there was anything wrong with wearing one black sock and one navy colored sock so long as neither one had holes in the toes or heels; used to drive Mom up the wall. The only thing about the dress was it was asymmetrical and only had a strap across one shoulder. That meant trying the dress on just to be on the safe side.

The cubicle they called a fitting room wasn't much bigger than my school locker but at least it had a door and not just a curtain like most places. I was in there when there was this huge explosion. I was thrown against the mirror and cracked it with my forehead. As I saw stars and was still figuring out if I should be scared or hacked off that the shopping day had been ruined the lights started to flicker. I must have been in shock because all I could think about was getting blood on the dress and having to wear stitches on my face to the dance. Then I heard a lot of screaming and then a lot more screaming of a different type. I tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. I screamed for my mother. She screamed back, "Don't you dare come out of there Deandra Dawn Phillips. Don't you dare!"

Mom only called me by my full name when I was in serious trouble. Most of the time people just call me Dee Dee. I was wondering what I had done when there was some breaking glass kind of noises and something hit the door hard enough to make dust fall from the funky acoustic ceiling. Then there was more screaming that went on and on and on but then a door slammed and things got quiet which was somehow worse. Then the growling started and I got scared. Really, really scared. I nearly wet myself but Mom had told me not to come out. She'd specifically ordered me. I kept waiting and waiting for her to say something else, to tell me I could open the door. Then I got smart and tried to call Dad and when I couldn't reach him I tried to call Toddie.

I did get a hold of him but he wasn't himself. Apparently there had been some kind of riot on campus and he'd been taken to the infirmary because some guy had bitten him. The nurse put him on the line but he didn't seem to understand what was going on. Then the nurse took over and I guess I freaked her out and then we lost connection. I'm pretty sure if my brother is still in this world he isn't my brother anymore. It usually takes less than twelve hours from a bite and you're just another infected puss brain. Toddie was always a pain as a big brother, he gave me absolutely zero respect, but not even he deserved to be a puss brain.

After a while I tried to open that door and it wouldn't budge. I kicked it and hit it with my shoulder. Nothing worked. That's when I kind of turned off. I remember the feeling and it was pretty spooky; not something I want to do again because it leaves you too vulnerable. Sherry is actually the one that found me in that stupid dressing room. My mom or somebody had shoved a chair up under the door knob and then a clothing rack had really jammed it up and the door frame was all warped. Sherry told me she almost gave up budging it. If she hadn't found me and let me out I would have probably died in there. She's the one that made me change out of the dress and back into my street clothes. She also made me get two more changes of clothing off the racks of the store and stuff them in one of those reusable grocery bags. She's also the one that said it was gonna be ok when I found my mom's purse, but not Mom, and started crying again. It wasn't gonna be ok but it's what I needed to hear at the time so I don't hold the lie against her.

I looked and looked for Mom. The one place Sherry wouldn't let me look was the manager's office. She said it was really bad in there. I know it sounds awful but I kinda hope Mom bit the bullet and isn't wandering around someplace for me to run into and have to put her out of her misery. I have no clue about Dad but he was a cop. From what I've seen since that day almost all of the cops and soldiers died fast and hard trying to protect people; so chewed up or tore up that they didn't go the way of the infecteds. That was my Dad's job. He protected people.

Not the kind of protection Doc and the other men want to give me though. I ... Oh crap, not again ... Time to run.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

Huh. What do you know, I didn't have to decide after all. They left me. They just flat out left me behind. I don't think Doc meant to but he was kinda busy getting chewed on. I know he was a creep and all but he was nice in his own way in the beginning so I put him out of his misery. I might be a terrible shot but I've developed really muscular arms and a good swing. Better than I ever had when I was playing softball at school.

My weapon of choice is an aluminum baseball bat that has a couple of round training weights glued to the end. All you have to do is pop the skull or take out the heart by crushing the rib cage. I suppose a sledge hammer works too but it doesn't feel as right in my hands as the bat does. The do-hicky-ma-jigger on the end of the bat means that even if your hands get slick from sweat or other stuff the bat won't go flying away. I lost two hammers that way - nearly hit Moses with one of them and boy was he hacked - before I figured out a bat would work much better.

No matter what you're swinging though you gotta be quick because the infecteds heal ... and I mean heal fast, and from things they shouldn't be able to heal from. I think that is why they are always hungry. They have to burn up a lot of energy doing that healing thing. I've seen them eating the covers off a leather chair. They'll eat grass mats. They'll even eat cotton clothes ... not synthetic ones though. Anything that used to be a live something or other they'll eat.

The mess the infecteds make - their waste - smells sooooo bad when it is fresh. But it is so dry when it comes out it decomposes fast and stops smelling or I'd have been puking every moment that passed for the last year. So if you can smell the mess the infecteds make then you know they've been in an area real recently; within the last twelve hours or so.

They're messes have made most of the water sources we used to have too dangerous to drink. You gotta be real careful about what you eat too. Soap and water or bleach and water if you got it. If not, boil it. You keep your utensils and drinking bottle clean or else. Infected is a really hard way to go. It didn't happen to anyone in our group but when we cross paths with other groups we share news and gossip and we've heard stories.

Like I said, infecteds need to eat and they'll eat almost anything that used to be live ... even carrion. But they prefer the live something or others. The feral dogs and cats that are left in the city are mean but cautious. They've gotten good at hiding and usually the only reason you know they are there is if they attack you first or you feel their eyes watching you as you go through their territory. Believe it or not the infecteds have gotten to most of the rats too ... when the rats haven't attacked them first. Don't hack off a rat pack. Especially not one that has started to consider people shaped things as a food source. And never go below ground. Not even the puss brains go down there. I don't know if that is true of every place but it is certainly true of this city.

The bigger something is the more likely the puss brains are to be attracted to it. Before the electric went out there was a youtube of some puss brains attacking a herd of elephants. I never want to see anything like that again. It gave me the runs. It even made Sherry gag.

And just for chucks and giggles the weirdos who made the whatever it is that causes the infection that makes the puss brains made it so the older the infecteds are ... or I mean the longer they've been infected ... the faster they heal. Their bones and connective tissues do anyway - skin, muscle, tendons, and that sort of thing. Some stuff doesn't ... like eyes. Gross. Alot of them look like they've got mange too. And alot of them have fingernails that are missing. Doc said it was because they weren't getting the right nutrition for their condition and that it would eventually kill all of them. It's always good to have hope. And if they get busted up bad enough but not killed, when they heal it is like a broken toy that doesn't get glued back together right. I've seen some really freaky looking and moving puss brains. And right now I don't want to think about that too much. I'm kinda upset enough as it is.

My feelings are hurt that Sherry would just dump me like she did but I'm thinking maybe she thought I was dead or bit up ... not salvageable at that point which is what Moses used to call members of our group that got the infection passed along to them. I wouldn't blame her if she did believe that. But if it had been her I would have made sure to put her out of her misery. I wouldn't have left her to wander around as a puss brain for who knows how long.

By rights I should be chewed to ribbons but I fell through the floor where it was being repaired before things went to heck in a hand basket. It knocked the wind out of me and hurt like you figured getting your boobs wracked would, but it also meant the puss brains were a floor behind me and since they couldn't move too fast on stairs - the ones that cornered us acted like they had inner ear issues - I started running.

I didn't stop running until I was as far away from the developing horde as I could get. Not coincidentally I'm pretty sure I'm heading in the right direction to go home. I also got to one of our group's caches before any of the others did. They'll get around to it eventually but I'll be long gone by then and so will most of what was in the pipe; a big PVC pipe that was capped on both ends. Except for the booze; they can have that. And the cigs. In the past I've tried both to see if it would make me feel any better like the others made it seem like it did them; the booze just gave me a headache and queasy stomach and the cigs stole my breath to run. So, no booze and no cigs. Wasted weight in my backpack and this thing is heavy enough as it is. Well, except for the Everclear but that isn't for drinking; it is for sterilizing stuff. Doc used to use it to sterilize his medical stuff or what he used as he medical stuff because he said nothing survives a 24 hour soak in Everclear. The smell alone makes me tend to believe him.

Ravioli, potted meat, two canned hams, some fruitcocktail, beanee weenees, and some other canned junk should hold me for a while. Sherry also taught me about some weeds that can be eaten. I recognize them but I keep forgetting the names. I nibbled on some wild ruffage last night to keep things moving because that canned stuff totally kills my digestive track. TMI but true.

I shouldn't feel as good as I do but ... well ... I do. For one thing I've made killer time today. I found these really cool inline skates and they've been as good as a bike. Even better because I can maneuver with them better than I could a bike. And I only took one header when I hit a crack in the side walk running - er, skating - from a group that had marked a whole city block as their territory since the last time we passed through there. Luckily in addition to the skates I found the knee and elbow pads and a helmet at the same time. It was in this store that sold sports and exercise equipment. I went in there looking for some tape for my bat handle. I walked out with some clean clothes - totally rocking the sports bra thing - a new rain proof jacket with a hood, and a couple of other odds and ends that I found back in the camping area. The place was a wreck but I also managed to grab some first aid junk and some thirst quencher gum and some of those whacked out energy bars. Mom would have had a kitten over the number of carbs in these things but hey, a girl needs some energy if she is going to run ... or skate ... away from the puss brains.

I try and balance eating the "carb bars" and the "protein bars" because too many carbs and I get tired, too many proteins and my kidneys feel like someone kicked them. The carb bars have a lot of sugars in them which is why I want to take a snooze after they run out. Doc says the protein bars are hard on people's waste disposal system when they don't get enough water to help process them through. I guess I learned something from Doc after all.

And I'm jazzing on one of those five-hour energy drinks. I need to sleep but I can't afford to, not tonight anyway. I couldn't find a real secure place so I've got to be my own guard since I don't have anyone to share the job with. If the map I found in the bus station is right as soon as I get on the other side of the warehouse district I should be real near one of the bridges. The question is whether I can get across the bridges on this side of the city. The ones on the other side were blown up by the soldiers or something like that and another one fell down when a barge hit one of the those things that hold the bridge up out of the river.

I've seen the bridges though not up close. Moses always said it was a waste of time and energy to go that way because even if we could figure out a way to get across the broken bridge spans people on the other side of the river didn't want us and would shoot us to keep us bottled up with the puss brains. In the beginning that was true, Sherry and I saw it happen before we joined Moses' group. It was so bad that people just stopped trying to get across. But I figure enough time has passed that surely they wouldn't care about one girl wanting to go home. It isn't like I expect anyone to feed me or anything. I just want to go home one more time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

Total suckage. I fell asleep and drooled all over my notebook. At least I didn't wake up to a puss brain drooling all over me. I guess I was so tired or wasted or whatever that the five-hour drink didn't work. Or maybe that stuff is getting old and losing its oomph. I know that after watching one of the girls in our group die of food poisoning I learned to be real careful and read the labels of stuff to see when it expired. Guess I need to check the exp dates on everything again just to be on the safe side.

It will give me something to do because right now I'm not going anywhere. It's raining and I betcha by the time it stops it will be too close to getting dark again. I stepped out of my refuge to take care of business in the rain and I saw quite a few puss brains heading the way I had come the day before. That's when I noticed there was an extra pee-you to the air despite the rain and turned to see a great big tower of smoke coming from downtown. Something is on fire, something big. The rain doesn't look like it is putting it out.

Fire is one of the things that freaked Doc out and would get him drinking. He worried that someone would start a fire, lose control of it, and it would "engulf the entire city and leave us with no escape except to jump into the river and try and swim across." Then he would shudder because of course Doc can't swim. It was one of his phobias.

But hey, Mom always said there was no loss without some small gain and boy did I gain when I picked this office to hole up in. It didn't look like much to begin with. This area of town was kinda rundown before, but since they closed the city off it has got even worse. And there's enough people left in the city, and enough time has passed, that most places have been turned inside out for edibles and drugs. The front area had been worked over already and I was flush so all I was really looking for was a place to sleep.

I stumbled into the back area and it took me a while to figure out that this placed must have been some kind of stock and supply business ... the kind that filled vending machines, gumball machines, and candy counters. Holy diabetic shock Batman, I hit the mother load.

My brother Toddie and his friends were like junk food aficionados. Dad thought it was a riot, Mom not so much. Geez those guys would come up with the craziest things in scouts. For example, their troop had this cooking contest and one of the areas was called "microwave breakfast." It was supposed to get the guys more self-sufficient but I think it was just a way for them to goof off and gross each other out. Only as gross as the recipe Toddie and his team came up with it actually tasted pretty good. Even Mom admitted it. And it only took three ingredients: a small bag of frito chips, a box of cracker jacks, and a little bit of marshmallow fluff.

First they pulverized the chips until they were basically just powder. Then they mashed the cracker jacks until they were small bits. From there you added enough fluff to the "frito powder" to make a really dense paste which you then microwaved for fifteen seconds. You took that out of the microwave, topped it with some smashed cracker jacks and a dollop of fluff and you wound up with what they called "fluffy grits with caramel crumble." It should have been totally gross. It wasn't. I later found out that it wasn't even their recipe exactly but one they read in this book called "Junk Foodie" or something like that.

My back pack is now so stuffed I won't absolutely have to look for edibles for quite a while ... maybe a whole three weeks. 'Course I will anyway if I get the chance. Never look a gift horse in the mouth and food is a gift of sorts these days. People in the city are going to be starving soon. Some might already be. The Puss Brains will run out of people and stuff to eat and then they'll find some way out of the city come heck or high water. Will it happen tomorrow? I don't think so, especially not with the horde to keep them entertained. Could it happen before winter gets here? Maybe but the puss brains kinda get slow during really cold weather. Will it have happened by spring? Yeah ... yeah I am pretty sure it will happen by then. And I want to be gone and hiding some place safe before that happens.

Guess what I ate for lunch? Never mind, you'll never guess. French onion soup! ROFL! The last time I had it was the day Mom and I ... never mind. It's a good memory but one that hurts too much to write down. But this particular soup I ate was another one of Toddie's experiments. You take onion rings ... like Funyuns or those that Utz sells ... and a small bag of Cheetos. Yes, I said Cheetos.

Directions for Toddie's French onion soup: place twelve onion rings in a bowl and cover them with two cups of water of boiling water. Then you mash the heck out of the Cheetos sprinkle that over the top of the soggy onion rings and let it sit just long enough for a lot of the hot water to get absorbed. Then you close your eyes and pretend you aren't totally grossed out and eat it. It really isn't bad. Pretty salty though and it makes you thirsty. But at least it doesn't cramp my guts all up like eating another can of beans would.

And for dessert I had what Dad used to call a Virgin Black Russian. You mix a bottle of Yoohoo chocolate drink with a can of Coca-cola and then you use a Twizzler as a straw. Mom hated them and not even Toddie liked them but to Dad and I they were "our" drink. Sometimes, when he would have to work odd hours, he would come home really stressed out about a case. My bedroom was right across from the kitchen because it used to be the old laundry room and I would hear him moving around. He would always tell me to go back to bed but I would make us "our" drink and we would sit in the kitchen and not talk. But I think it made him feel better all the same. When our glasses were empty and we were done not talking he would say, "Better clean these up and put them away so your mother doesn't wake up to dirty dishes." We'd do what needed doing and then he'd make sure I was tucked back in bed and he'd go slowly down the hallway.

I wound up crying half way through my dessert and blowing snot bubbles. I don't cry very much anymore, not near as much as the men in the group used to accuse me of, but once in a while you just have to let it out or you're gonna blow up.

Tomorrow I'm gonna have to move whether it is still raining or not. I peeked out the back door of this place and the fire is getting bigger. Not a lot but it has definitely spread. In fact, I think I'm going to go ahead and pack up and see how far I can get. I can't wear my skates or I'll break my neck, but I can at least get a little further along. Maybe a lot further along.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five**

Jerry was a jerk. He died a jerk. Or will die. Well not die exactly but he'll probably wish he had for a while until he forgets who he is. He always said that if he got infected he would just off himself. I'm thinking the bully is too big a coward to do it though. He got away but not before getting nibbled on. The smaller the dose of infection the longer it will take him to go over to the dark side and the more pain he'll be in until he does. I had to work to make myself feel bad about that.

They never even knew I was there thank goodness. They were making way too much noise; Moses would have slapped them up side their heads fast and hard for being so sloppy. But I didn't see Moses or Sherry. I don't know if they made it or not. Good luck to them if they did. It isn't healthy to hold grudges.

I was up on the bridge trying to remember all the bragging that Jerry had done about working maintenance on the bridges and how, even if the spans were down, there was a way for work crews to get across. There's like scaffolding that runs under the road on the edge on each side of the bridge. So it is like the black top can disappear but there is still a skeleton that will help you cross. Only it is really freaky because there is no floor on the maintenance crosswalk. You have to wear these harnesses like mountain climbers do and just walk across metal beams.

Holy frijole, I was ready to blow chunks just thinking about it once I'd gotten up there and seen how high everything really was. That's when I spotted them being chased by a small group of puss brains. I recognized Jerry right away because of that stupid hard hat he always wears. Once I recognized him I recognized the rest of them though I couldn't make out their faces. Hardly any of the old group made it apparently ... or maybe some went with Moses or ... it really doesn't matter anymore. They left me so I've gotta leave them.

I bet they were following Jerry's lead and had come to do just what I was doing. He'd always said if we wanted to get out of the city that was going to be the best way. No one really listened to him because Jerry bragged a lot. Or maybe it wasn't his bragging so much as the simple fact that he was such a jerk. For whatever reason they were listening to him then ... only instead of making it to the bridge they got cut off and got stuck out on a pier with nowhere left to run. They were getting a dingy off a tug that was moored to the pier when one of the puss brains broke through the group's defenses and came straight at Jerry who had been supervising rather than working to get it done faster. Chomp. Chomp.

McDowell threw Jerry out of the boat when he tried to get in and then those that remained started paddling with their hands to get away. Haven't the foggiest if they'll make it. Once they get near the center of the river there is no way paddling hands are going to control where it goes. If they're lucky it will just take them in the current and carry them off until they hit dry land somewhere down the way. If they aren't careful though they'll flip over where it gets rough.

I was really worried that Jerry would come back and try his old plan out without the rest of them so I opened the maintenance locker at the foot of the bridge and sure enough the harnesses were right where he said they would be. It took me a while to figure out how to put one on and when I did it was all baggy and stuff.

That was like the longest four hours in my entire life. It was dark by the time I got to the other end of the bridge and I kept expecting someone to shoot me. I was afraid to call out and afraid not to. Especially when I saw how clear of cars and junk that the road was. Well there were leaves and that sort of trash in the road but nothing big. No skeletons or anything either like if someone had been shooting at anyone that crossed the river. There wasn't any kind of sounds at all except regular ol' night sounds. So I started walking. Carefully.

The moonlight was pretty decent until the clouds came back then I was nearly blind as a bat so I found a building and crawled inside. It had been stripped bare but not like someone had done it in a panic. There were broken out windows but I didn't know where the glass had gone because it had all been swept up; none crunched under my boots at all.

I curled up in a room labeled janitor's closet and fell asleep. I woke up having to go to the bathroom really bad. I almost didn't make it I was so careful about getting out in case there was someone around. Necessities taken care of it was light enough for me to really look around.

I'm telling you the dead city never felt as empty as that stretch of road did. Every building had been stripped. Every vehicle had been stripped down to the metal frame. The place was so neat that it looked like a movie set. It was spooky weird. There was no trash anyplace. Not for at least three or four blocks on either side of the road the bridge fed into. I didn't go any further than that.

Instead I started walking towards home. That's when I noticed the other weird thing. It didn't smell. I mean there were smells but they were proper smells, the kind you would expect to smell if the world was operating sorta semi-normally except cleaner. What I wasn't smelling were puss brains. I looked around and I didn't see any of their waste. I mean they weren't exactly shy of where they dumped so I should have seen some.

By the time the sun was straight over head I bet I'd gone about five miles and still no people and everything was that weird kind of freaky neat. I decided to take a chance and sat down to put on my skates. I knew from the map I was still a good forty miles from home and that I wouldn't get there in one day but I was going to get there faster by skate than I would by feet alone.

A quick hour later I noticed that things started to deteriorate. I was hitting the suburbs that were closest to the city. Here most of the houses had some kind of X or O on their front. Some people had spray painted messages like "GONE TO GRAN'S" or "HEAD TO UNCLE ALBERT'S". There were numbers on some of the houses but I can't imagine what they are. Some had too many to be phone numbers and some had too few.

I had to slow down as there were more cars in the road. Things weren't totally trashed but they weren't as neat as down by the river. Then I saw a dilapidated sign hung across a big church. "RED CROSS STAGING AREA". I skated that direction, but cautiously. Hospitals weren't the healthiest places to be and usually they were good for housing at least one or two puss brains if not more.

Inside the "staging area" was a mess. I didn't find any puss brains but I did find the morgue. The bodies were like a lot that we ran across in the city; nature had do what it was programmed to do and there weren't any serious fluids left after a year. They weren't mummies exactly though, more like raisins. And a lof of them looked like they'd taken what Moses called a Mercy shot to the back of the head or the temple ... a few took it in the forehead. A few must have done for themselves because the shot came from below the chin. You could tell where the bullet went in at because the exit hole was bigger and nastier ... sometimes real nasty.

It was depressing. I don't know what I expected once I left the city but not the emptiness I've found. I want to know where all the people have gone. They had to have gone someplace. I know a lot of people are dead. I saw that with my own eyes as it happened in the city. But if outside the city was as dead as inside the city there'd be bodies all over the place out here too. Not this ... this ... whatever it is.

Maybe they've moved people to someplace safe. But around here seems pretty safe. I haven't seen any puss brains. But somebody took all of the stuff. The groups in the city salvaged too but they sure weren't this neat. This looks like somebody's housekeeper did it. Or somebody's mom. Kinda to the point of being OCD.

I'm actually glad things are looking a little messier than they did at first. That painful cleanliness was hard to take. It was so fake.

I gotta sleep. Too much thinking.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six**

They starved them! They starved the puss brains! That's why I haven't seen a bunch of live ones. They pulled back, stripped everything as they went, and then somehow funneled the puss brains toward the river and back towards the city where a lot of them came from in the first place. That is so totally freaky!

I know what happened because I came to a wall ... a concrete block wall made up of those big things they build the interstate overpasses with. They look like giant, concrete Lego blocks and fit together just about the same way. The wall stretched for a long way in both directions. It was crap to climb I tell you that much. Especially with my pack. I finally had to tie a rope to it, climb to the top of the wall which was a good fifteen feet high, and then use the rope to pull the pack up to where I was sitting.

I looked around from up high and saw ... nothing. One side of that big concrete fence didn't look much different than the other side. It reminded me a little bit of the Great Wall of China only not as tall. It stretched as far as I could see in both directions. It looked like they'd used a highway so it would stand up straight without falling over. I found out later that it was also so they wouldn't have to bulldoze down any buildings as they were running out of time.

I lowered my pack and then climbed down; going down was definitely easier than going up. I decided to leave my skates off for a while and look around. The buildings on this side were stripped too but not as neatly. Then I walked into this real estate office and I smelled it. I hadn't smelled it since I'd left the city but I sure smelled it then. Not even that morgue had smelled like this.

It felt like it took me forever to pull my bat and get ready. I was mad at myself for getting careless. Then I saw it chewing on one of those cheap naugahide sofas like it tasted bad and I knew I wouldn't get a better chance.

SPLAT!

I looked around and listened but I didn't hear another one. I was wiping my bat off with a curtain when a voice said, "Thanks Kid."

I turned around swinging but didn't hit anything but wall. "Damn Kid, guess I better be glad my leg is busted or my head would be as flat as Henry's there."

I looked down and there was this man sitting in the door way of one of the offices. He didn't look too healthy, like he was hurting in places he didn't know he had. Saw a lot of that in the city. I probably looked the same. I started to back up and he said, "What's your rush? Do I look like something to be afraid of? Look at the shape I'm in."

I just looked at him. "Silent type are you?"

I still wasn't biting.

"Geez I suck at this. Why do I always get stuck with the special cases?"

I snapped, "I'm no one's special case."

"Hah, so you do have a tongue in that head of yours."

A little in spite I told him, "You talk funny ... sound funny I mean. You aren't from around here."

"Nope. Born in North Carolina but I've been travelling quite a lot since then. And since we are on the subject of origins you want to give me yours?"

I suddenly noticed the patch on his shirt and tried not to get excited but I figured I had a way to test the man in front of me. "Who is the Sheriff around here?"

"No clue Kid. Liberated this from a cruiser out back a couple of days ago when some woman yacked all over me. That's when Henry here decided he wanted to dance and I busted my leg."

"Why are you calling that puss brain Henry? Was that his name before he got sick?"

"Yeah. Or at least that is the name on the tag on his shirt. You probably can't see it beneath the mess you made."

I had fallen silent again, losing the little bit of hope that I had. Stupid.

"You gonna tell me where you're from or not?"

"Not." We just stared at each other and I figured out he was trying to play tough. He didn't know me anymore than I knew him. "Are you thirsty?"

"Hell yeah. You got any water?"

I took a bottle of water out of a pocket on the side of the back pack and rolled it towards him. "Cautious type huh?"

I shrugged. But when he started to chug the water I told him, "Ease up or you're gonna puke."

He gave me an irritated look but then nodded and set the bottle down. "This all you got?"

"You can keep it. I've got a filter."

"Filter huh? Those things are only good if you've got something to filter in the first place. Take this kid. Can't promise there isn't backwash in it but ..."

"I said you can keep it. I know how to make do. Besides there's an artesian fountain over by the Baptist church on third street."

"All fountains and water sources were turned off and capped by order of the Governor months ago."

I shrugged. "Unless somebody from the church did it, there's still a spigot in the baptismal."

"Take it you're from around here."

I shook my head. "A friend from school used to go there. Her uncle was the minister."

"That still means you are from around here close."

I shrugged. He let it go.

"Kid. I need my pack. I gotta call in. I been out of touch for over 48 hours. Don't want to give them the idea that I up and died on them or anything. There's a Ford Explorer three buildings down on the other side of the road. Give me a hand to get over there ... or if you won't do that at least give me a hand to get up off this floor."

I looked at him and looked good. He had a buzz cut that was graying around the edges and really hard features. Especially his eyes. They were like chips of ice. He could play at anything he wanted to but I knew a hard case when I saw one.

"Are you a criminal?"

"Hell no Kid. What gave you that idea?"

"The top dog of the group I was with was a criminal before the puss brains attacked the city jail and he escaped. You've got the same kind of hard eyes."

"When the hell were you in the city? Are you telling me that's where you came from? Dammit. That means the ... ARGH!" He'd tried to stand up and had done something to his leg.

I sighed. Then backed up. "Are there any more puss brains around?"

Sweating he said, "Puss brains? That what you call the infected people?"

"Yeah. If you've cracked open a few you know why."

"Yeah," he said in disgust. "Yeah I do. But you're too damn young to know what the inside looks like."

"No one is too young. You figure it out or you become puss brain chow." I repeated, "Are there anymore around?"

He shook his head. "Naw, not that I've seen. This guy shouldn't have been around. This area gets sanitized on a regular basis. Shouldn't be any more."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah well, Shouldn't Bees still sting." He gave me a funny look and I shrugged. "Something my dad used to say. He said his mom used to say it to him a lot when he was a boy."

"Yeah. Got a few of those rattling around in my head too. So Kid, gonna give me a hand up?"

"No. I'll bring your junk to you though. If there are any puss brains around you'll just slow me down too much."

"Hell's bells," I heard him mutter as I backed up and then turned out the door.

I was much more cautious. Sanitized or not where there was one puss brain there could be more. But my luck was in and I made it to the truck he'd told me about with no problems. Except for the fact that it was locked. But after being around Moses and some of the other people in the group locked vehicles were not a problem. The slim jim didn't work on the truck door because it was a newer model but punching the lock never failed, I just didn't like doing it because it was loud in all the quiet.

Fifteen minutes later I was huffing and puffing as I dragged in the man's stuff. "Geez, you got lead in this stuff or what?"

The guy had been attempting to crawl to the door but stopped, slack jawed when I appeared. "Well damn Kid, you really did come back."

"I said I would."

"Yes you did. Now hand me that radio and I'll get us a ride out of here."

I wasn't sure what to make of that bit of news so I let it slide. He'd gotten kinda bent when I asked him if he was a criminal so he probably didn't think of himself as one. I knew he wasn't a cop because he all but admitted it. But he was something and his gear looked all military and stuff. That still didn't mean doodly squat. I wasn't going to be dumb enough to take candy from a bad man.

From all the noise on the other end of the radio it sounded like whoever he was talking to was happy to hear from him. They didn't talk long and it was mostly in what sounded like code but he looked pretty satisfied when they signed off. "They'll be here midmorning. We'll catch us a ride and I'll get this leg looked after."

"I can look at it if you want me to ... but no ... you know ... stuff."

"Huh?"

"Look, I may not be much but I didn't let the others drive me to that. And I learned a few things from Doc and I can at least make sure it is set right. But not if you want something ... and since you're a grown man I shouldn't have to spell it out to you."

"Kid you aren't making any sense. You ..." He slowed to a stop and then sighed. "Aw hell. I guess you are after all. You musta had some guy mess with you. Well I ain't that kind. If I was Major Jeffries would have strung me up a long time ago. She and Colonel Matthews don't tolerate that kind of thing. Not for any reason."

"Are you in the military?"

"National Guard. Or what's left of it."

"OK. But just so we're clear. And no one has messed with me. Moses wouldn't let them. If I had said yes that would have been different but he said girls had to be willing. The other girls did it but I never did. It's gross."

"We're clear Kid. Moses your top dog you mentioned?"

"He wasn't mine, he was Sherry's. They still left me behind though so don't think just because you have eyes like Moses it means anything to me."

I went to work and then gave him what for. "This is a total sucky job. No wonder it hurts. Nothing is broken that I can feel, you've just knocked it out of whack. And what's the big idea of cutting off the circulation? Good way to give yourself a dead leg."

"Ok. Ok you little spitfire. My skin is tender enough as it is, you don't need to rake me over the coals and make it worse."

I snorted but left off. For a big guy he was pretty good at not hitting out while I was hurting him but I could tell he was in a lot of pain anyway. When I was done stabilizing the knee the way Doc had shown me I leaned back and pulled the first aid bag out of my pack. "Percoset or Tylenol? The percoset will make you feel better but the Tylenol won't slow you down ... or at least not more than you already are."

"Tylenol." I handed him two extra strength and he dry swallowed them.

He leaned back and was breathing heavy then I realized it really stank and knew I'd have to move "Henry" if we didn't want to have to smell him all night. I stood up and went to do what had to be done but the man reached out and grabbed my calf so fast I nearly screamed. I got loose and backed away and found myself in the worst place you could be ... a corner.

"Hey Kid. Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you like that. Just ... I'm a little jumpy and Henry there ... we need to make sure he won't get back up."

"He won't," I said cautiously looking for an out. "I felt the crack all the way up the bat to my hands."

"Yeah well, pardon me if I would feel better when I see a bullet properly lodged where it belongs. I need my gun."

"No you don't. Besides how are you going to hit it from the other side of the counter? You need to stay put."

"You shoot him."

I sighed forlornly. "I can't hit the broad side of a barn, not even this close. My glasses are all scratched. I could hit him again but that'll just make a bigger mess for me to clean up. Let me drag him out and I'll put something through its heart if it bothers you that much."

He gave me a weird look. "You been on the street a long time."

It was a statement not a question so I didn't lie as I pulled "Henry" off the sofa and started to drag him outside. "Since the first attack or whatever you want to call it. Mom and I had gone to the city to look for a homecoming dress that wouldn't freak my dad out too much. I was going with Lee Berio."

I kept tugging and eventually got the body out to the side walk and then used a piece of broken furniture from the next store over to make double sure like I had told the man I would. I came back in and saw him tuck the radio back down.

I looked at him suspiciously and he nodded. "Yeah, I was talking to base. Gonna make something of it Kid?"

"Not so long as that is what you are really doing. I don't want to wind up some slave girl or anything disgusting like that."

"Damn you've got some imagination."

"You try living in the city with your only protectors a criminal, a high priced hooker, and a doctor that is also a druggie and you see how much trust you got."

"And you got a hell of a mouth on you too."

"So? It's not like we're besties or anything. I don't even know your name."

"Watson. Sgt. Watson to you Short Stuff."

"I'm not short. I'm height-challenged. The school nurse said so."

"Oh she did did she?"

"He said so. Don't be so sexist. We're way beyond the 20th century you know."

"Don't remind me." But he was grinning.

I wanted to but I still wasn't sure I trusted him. He kinda reminded me of some of my dad's friends but a girl can't be too careful. Men are weird.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"If you tell me your name."

"Why?"

"Would you rather me call you Short Stuff?"

I thought it over. "DeeDee. Why was that puss brain such a light weight? He should have weighed more?"

"DeeDee?" He started laughing so hard he bumped his leg and then had to bite off what I figured was a lot of bad words. After he got his breath back he asked, "Seriously? Your name is DeeDee?"

"Yeah. It's not like I had a lot of say in what my parents picked out so I just have learned to live with it."

He laughed again but then settled down as I cleaned my hands with the Everclear and dumped the scissors I had used to cut his pants in a tupperware container and poured some of the booze over them and then put the lid on and set it aside.

"Who taught you that?" he asked.

"Doc."

"The druggie?"

"Yeah. So what about it? Why was Henry ..."

"... such a lightweight?"

I nodded and that's when I found out about them starving the puss brains. After he explained he said, "There were too many to corral and after the doctors explained that there was no cure for the condition everyone agreed there were simply too many to euthanize like we'd been doing. No one really thought it was a great idea but it was the safest one for the uninfected and the kindest for the ... the ones you call the puss brains."

"Did anyone think there might be some people ... uninfected people ... still in the city?"

"Kid ... DeeDee ... like I said, no one thought it was a great idea. And by the time they got around to it the cities had been cut off. We thought anyone left would be one of the infecteds and we had no way to screen people for bites and other wounds."

The world was hard and it wasn't fair. I knew that. Still, it had sucked to be me.

"I guess. Are you hungry?"

"Hell yeah. Push the rest of my pack this way and we'll split some rations." He started digging around and pulled out a sealed pouch. "Hadn't even gotten around to opening this up yet."

He pulled the tape off, looked inside, and then made a face. "That jackass Mendelsohn." He sighed. "Well Kid, it ain't gonna be great but it'll fill most of the empty spaces. You want ginger ale or this lime tea crap?"

"What else you got?"

"Not much." He proceeded to pull out a package of saltines, a small can of Vienna sausages, a can of sterno, and a can of creamed corn.

I looked it over and said, "OK. You gonna go berserk if we light your sterno in here?"

"That's what it's for Kid."

I pulled out the mess kit I had found and popped open the creamed corn and poured it in one of the pots. Pulled out a bag of fried potato sticks and crunched them up a little and put them over the top of the corn then dug the cheese out of a package of cheese dip and glooped that on top of the potato sticks. I wiped out the can the corn had come in and then cut some air holes into its sides. Then I lit the sterno and set the can of the top of it. When I was sure the sterno wasn't going to go out I set the mess kit pan with the corn and junk in it on top of the can.

Sgt. Watson just watched me through slitted eyes as he leaned back. I could see the pain lines around his mouth and eyes.

Next I pulled out the kabob sticks that I had made months ago as I'd learned to make do with whatever the group let me have. I threaded the Vienna sausages on them and set them to the side. Next I took an empty water bottle and filled it half way with the tea and the other half with the ginger ale and mixed it together.

"That's gonna taste like ... er ... crap."

"It might surprise you."

Soon enough the weird dinner was finished and in our bellies.

"You know Kid, that wasn't near as bad as I expected it to be."

"Told you."

"Smart mouth."

"Yeah, well you aren't going to like what comes next."

He looked at me suspiciously. "What? Did you poison me?"

"Don't be silly. No. You gotta get up so you can go do your business. You're lucky though. You're a guy so all you have to do is point and shoot."

"Damn Kid!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Seven**

Figuring out how to get him into a closet big enough wasn't the problem. It was that he insisted that I stay in there with him.

"Oh no I won't."

"Oh yes you will. No way am I going to let some scrawny, pint-sized, girl-child sleep off on her own when there might be infecteds roaming around. What? You're all of twelve?"

"Twelve?! I'm fifteen!"

"Well hello Methuselah's grandmaw. And stop shouting. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. How the heck am I supposed to know how old you are?"

I was mad for about two seconds and then I smiled. "OK, you just proved it."

"Proved what?" he asked grumpily.

"Most guys would have looked at my chest and seen I'm more than all grown in that area."

Even in the dusk I could see his face go red. "Aw hell's bells Kid. Don't start that kind of talk. And you're not going to distract me. Fifteen or not you're still not going to ..."

We went back and forth a little while but I gave in since he'd let me fight it out and hadn't tried to make me no matter how much he growled and threatened.

Next morning we split some cold poptarts and powdered sugar doughnuts and chased it with some cheap knock off orange breakfast drink.

"What have you got in that pack? Aladdin's lamp? You make a wish and your favorite junk food spews forth?"

Rather than answer him I threw a packet of instant coffee at him. "You are as bad as Toddie in the morning."

Flipping the brown packet around in his hand he gave me a troubled look. "Kid, this could bring you a pretty penny on the barter market."

I shrugged. "I've got more. It's not like I drink it. Dad would kill me. He says I can't have coffee until I'm eighteen."

When I saw Sgt. Watson giving me a funny look I thought back and realized I sounded a little crazy. I sighed. "Sorry. I'm not used to having anyone to really talk to."

"Thought you mentioned you talked to this Sherry chick and that you were in a group of about twenty people."

"OK, let me rephrase that," I said trying to sound like I had some sense and didn't belong on a crazy farm. "I'm not used to people actually listening to what I say so I could say just about anything and not have it mean nothing."

He grinned a little reluctantly and told me, "My sister the teacher would call that a double negative."

I shrugged. "Grammar. It's just not as important as it used to be."

He nodded. "Maybe not but words can still get you into trouble and out of it. For instance, don't be so free with that stuff you keep sharing out of your pack; save it for when you really need it. I'll keep what you gave me and be happy to, but you make sure you keep your mouth shut on the rest of what you got. We got a tight ship going but we still have troublemakers and no-goods. No need to create a situation with too much temptation."

No time like the present. "I never said I was going with you."

He smiled which made me suspicious. "I figured you might try and pull this. And no, I'm not angry at you; I would probably feel the same way you do. Just wait until our ride gets here to make your decision."

It was at that moment that his radio crackled and they said something that basically meant that they'd be there in five minutes.

"Let's pack up this trash Kid and hide it until you can dig a hole and get rid of it privately."

We'd finished that and then there was the sound of a couple of trucks coming down the street. Big trucks. I went to stick my head out but Sgt. Watson pulled me back and said, "Not until we know for sure. Could be anyone. You need to be more careful." I shrugged and let him lead. It was his show. Besides Moses was always saying basically the same thing.

He picked up his radio and clicked it a couple of times. Then someone clicked something back. Then he clicked it again. And then a voice called, "Hey Watson, where you at? Got a medic and she sure is anxious to get a look at you. Allll o' you."

I covered my mouth when I noticed how red Sgt. Watson's face got all of a sudden. The Sgt. had a girlfriend. He radioed back to let him know his position and I started edging away. "Oh no you don't kid. Just one more minute."

"Why? You can't talk me into something I don't want to do."

He nodded. "I know I can't. I'm hoping that someone else can though."

"Not your girlfriend."

"Nope."

I turned as the door that faced the street opened and in walked four people while some others took up positions just outside. The first in was a long legged blonde. Even without makeup she looked like she belonged in a fancy magazine. She had what I was never going to have, but the smile on her face made me somehow less jealous of that fact than I could have been. There was another woman with her and then the two guys. One was dressed in military fatigues but the other was dressed in the kind of clothes that the swat team wore. Then I saw the patch and I jerked my eyes to the guy's face.

I sighed in disappointment and looked away. I didn't recognize him either. That's when he said, "What's wrong DeeDee, don't you know me?"

I jerked my eyes back to his face and he took off his raybans. He'd cut his hair short, a lot shorter than he'd ever had it. And it was done in a flat top just like his dad's always was. He had a mustache like his dad too only it was kind of puny in comparison. I swallowed twice before any sound would come out. "Lee?"

Then he grinned and the hair and other changes didn't matter. "Have you seen my dad?" I asked.

Lee's smile dimmed. "I'm ... I'm sorry DeeDee."

I had promised myself I wouldn't cry and I didn't, but it was a near thing. "It's not like I wasn't already pretty certain. But I had to ask. You know?"

"Sure. Of course. I would have done the same thing," he said uncomfortably.

I could feel the others watching and it made me self-conscious. Still I felt I had to be polite. "Your dad?"

"He's ... he's working with the National Guard, handles the local security while they handle the overall stuff."

"Oh."

"Uh ... what about your mom?"

"She disappeared in the city."

"My mom too. She was working at the hospital and ... anyway, what were you doing in the city? I mean why weren't you at school like the rest of us?"

"Dad said I could play hookie so that Mom and I could go find a dress for the dance." He just looked at me blankly. "Homecoming? Remember? Or ... uh ... maybe you don't. I guess ..."

"No ... no I remember it's just ... you mean you went into the city because of me?"

Then suddenly it was just Lee standing there and I was just DeeDee. "Don't be a doof. Not because of you, because of a dress. And I found it too. Would have knock you right out of your socks. It was mint colored and had only one strap. But it covered all the vitals so my dad and your mom wouldn't have had kittens or anything."

Quietly he said, "I wish I could have seen you in it."

"You can. Or you could if I could find something to load my cell phone card onto. I wanna go home."

The last four words just sort of fell out of my mouth and I started shaking. And I had to either shake or cry so I just kept shaking because I sure wasn't going to cry in front of Lee Berio.

His eyes widened and he had the nearly panicked look of a guy faced with a crying girl. Only I wasn't crying so I can't imagine how bad he'd be if I had let the waterworks turn on. "Oh ... Hey sure. I'll take you there myself after Dad let's me off duty. He'll wanna see you. You bet he will. A lot of people will. They want to know where you've been at this whole time. So do I. Why did it take you this long to decide to try and come back?"

"We thought people would shoot us if we tried to cross the river," I whispered, trying to push sound around the lump in my throat. Not answering though wasn't an option. Moses had programmed that into me pretty good.

"There's nobody manning that check point; hasn't been for a long time."

"There used to be. I saw it. They shot at anything that got passed the half-way point whether it was on the bridge or on the river. Then for a while the waterside area was too dangerous because of the gangs. Lee, can I not talk about this right now. I just wanna go home."

I saw Lee look at the woman that was taking care of Sgt. Watson. The Sergeant and the lady had been whispering. She looked at me and said, "My name is Maria ... Maria Riccardo."

"You don't look Spanish."

"Cuban believe it or not. Some of us are very blonde and blue eyed."

"Oh."

"I'd like you to come back and let me check you over at the clinic. It is kind of routine. Once you get a clean bill of health you can go with your friend Lee here."

I didn't like the sound of it and it must have showed on my face because Lee said, "It's no big deal DeeDee. Everyone that comes back from an outside patrol or a salvage run goes through the clinic. It's SOP so that we don't ... you know ..."

"So you can't hide an infection or something like that. They don't want any potential puss brains roaming around their precious streets."

The Riccardo woman said, "No. We don't. Can you blame us?"

I shrugged. "No. Just don't pretend we are going to your clinic to be nice. You just want to make sure I'm not contagious."

"Alright. I admit it."

"Fine. So long as we have that straight. No fake stuff."

She shook her head. "No fake stuff," she agreed.

I jumped when Lee tried to take my pack. "It's mine. I'll carry it."

"OK," he said putting his hands up in surrender. "You don't need to make such a case out of it."

Then we heard someone scream.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part Eight**

I said, "Hey Sarge. I think we found some more of your shouldn't bees."

"Shut up Kid and keep your head down. There's almost a dozen infecteds out there. That's a big group."

"Oh that's nothing. You should see how lively they get when they form hordes."

The puss brains suddenly rushed the guy that had stayed nearest the trucks. Everyone else just sort of froze. "What are you all waiting for?!" I shouted. "He's going to get chomped it we don't do something."

"We can't shoot, we'll hit the trucks!"

"Who said anything about shooting?" I yelled and then ran outside and straight at the puss brains.

I heard someone scream but it wasn't me or the guy on the ground.

I had already taken two out with my bat when two of the soldiers came up and started helping me. They were using those crowd control batons like my Dad used to carry with him when he wore his riot gear. We were down to one mobile puss brain when the guy that had been on the ground managed to get up and yanked my bat out of my hand and whaled on him (it) until there wasn't a whole lot left above the shoulders.

I tapped him on the shoulder a couple of times before I finally got his attention. "Can I have my bat back now?"

The guy collapsed back against the truck and started yanking at his shirt. He had some kind of long sleeved shirt on under it and it yanked that one off too and started looking his his arms and the rest of him. I got a good look too. Wow. Definitely closet poster material.

Then the guy starts praying. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. And bless the inventor of kevlar wherever he is."

I picked up my bat where the guy had dropped it and the t-shirt too which I felt and realized it felt like Dad's bullet proof vest. I handed it to him when Lee came up and snapped, "Put your shirt on Cochran. Stop showing off."

Cochran gave Lee an irritated look. Before any more guy drama could start Medic Riccardo stepped between them and busted out with some orders concerning the puss brain corpses. Then she looked at me with pinched lips but if she thought that was going to put me in my place she was sadly mistaken. Moses was much better with the fire and brimstone than she was and I wasn't scared of her.

I walked over to find Sgt. Watson trying to get up. "Dammit, give me a hand kid. 'Cause when I get up I'm going to bust your butt so hard you aren't going to be able to sit down for a month of Sundays."

"Yeah, yeah. Why the freak out?"

"Why the freak out?! You charged not one but a dozen infecteds without any protective gear on!"

"So? They were going to chomp on that guy that fell over ... Cochran or whatever his name is."

"Everyone knows the risks when they accept an assignment to go outside the perimeter."

"I live outside your stupid perimeter so I don't know any other way. The rule is bash or be chomped. Moses said you don't pick fights with the puss brains but you don't let 'em chomp on a buddy either. Safety comes in numbers. You let all your buddies get chomped then you wind up all alone against a gazillion puss brains. Those odds just don't work long term."

"I'm getting a little sick of hearing about what this Moses guy had to say. If he was so great why did you leave?"

"I didn't leave, they left me. Although I was thinking of leaving. The men in the group were getting too ... stuff and junk."

"Stuff and ju ... er ... oh," Sgt. Watson said starting to calm down. "Well ..."

"Deep subject."

"Smart aleck."

"Maybe."

He sighed and shook his head and Lee came back over and asked, "What's up with you anyway? You never did stuff like this before. Your dad would have had a lot to say about it."

"Maybe yes and maybe no. Zombies weren't real before. They are now. It was either change or get chomped. Or have to find some man that wanted to 'protect' me. I don't want to be chomped and I sure don't want to be protected."

Talking like he was a lot older than he is he said, "There's nothing wrong with being protected DeeDee, especially when you are small like you are."

I was mad for two whole breaths but then Sgt. Watson told Lee, "Not the kind of protection you're thinking about."

"What other kind of protection is there?"

I looked at Sgt. Watson who had an irritated look on his face and then at Lee who was truly confused. I said, "Never mind Lee. Guys like you and Sgt. Watson will never get it. You're too nice."


	9. Chapter 9

**Part Nine**

I rode to town in the back of one of the trucks trying to ignore the looks everyone was giving me. Lee was sitting beside me and had a grumpy face on that only got worse when that Cochran guy started talking to me.

"You really been in the city this whole time?"

"Yeah."

"For real?"

When I caught him popping a pose I had his number. "Less time working the six pack, more time developing your listening skills."

A couple of the guys in the back end snorted or tried to cover their mouths.

Cochran though only grinned after a brief surprise. "Dang. You're like my grandma's chihuahua. You may be small but you're fearless."

I gave him the look that kind of stupid deserved. No girl wants to be compared to a dog. He wasn't near as smooth as he thought he was. Dad had warned me plenty about guys like that so I decided the best thing to do would be to ignore him the same way I had ignored the men when they had started to try and sweet talk me.

We passed through two checkpoints and I got a good stare each time. I leaned over and whispered to Lee, "What's with the visual third degree? Do I have something growing someplace I can't see it?"

He leaned over and answered, "No. Word got around fast last night that you made it out of the city. You're the first since they built the wall. For some people that's enough. Others want to know how fast the infected are going to follow you out."

"Probably not before winter but maybe in the spring."

I felt Lee stiffen but before he could say something about my comment we pulled up in front of the old walk in clinic near the Little League fields. I jumped out of the truck but then almost jumped back in it when three people in space suits came out of the clinic doors. Lee grabbed me and said, "It's ok. Some folks are just extra stupid and make a big production about the sanitation process."

I didn't like the sound of that. "Sarge?! Sarge!"

"Whoa Kid," he said being helped over by a couple of guys from the other truck. "You charge twelve infecteds but are scared of those three turds?"

"Lee said sanitation! That's what you called getting rid of the puss brains!"

"Uh ... yeah. I did. Hmmm. Maybe bad choice of words."

Then one of the space suits said, "You'll do as you're told."

Medic Riccardo snapped, "Back off. This is my clinic and ..."

One of the other suits said, "You were warned Dr. Riccardo. Now you've been exposed. We believe that you are no longer objective and that you have been compromised and are incapable ..."

She hissed, "Oh for the love of ..."

Then the first guy makes a grab for me and says, "You're going to exam room one." I get a good look in the fact mask and can't help myself.

I start laughing. "Toby Holloway?!" I look at Lee and asked, "Tokin' Toby? Seriously? That's the best medical professional this place has to offer?!"

I'm rolling and Lee makes a face and then starts chuckling. Then he starts laughing too when the guy in the space suits starts cussing and making so much noise that it comes out sounding like a squawking chicken through the speaker thing he is wearing.

I said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Ain't no way I am letting Tokin' Toby get his nasty hands anywhere near me. Geez. He used to spy on the girls in the bathroom at school. Dad busted his chops twice that I know of and told his father that it didn't matter how many Laundromats he owned, that if he caught Toby lighting up or spying one more time it was off to family court and juvie."

Toby made another grab at me and I clocked him so good in the boy parts with my bat that there was puke on the inside of the plastic mask when he finally stopped rolling around. "I said I don't want your nasty hands on me. What part of no did you not understand?"

About that time a man came up and calmly answered, "Most of it apparently."

I looked up and stood straighter. "Sheriff!"

He smiled and said, "Deandra Dawn. I wish your father could have seen this day. I see you finally learned to hit what you were swinging at. That one would have been a home run for sure."

That did it. No matter how hard I tried I felt my eyes fill up and overflow. But I wasn't really crying. "Yes sir. I ... Did he ..."

"A drunk t-boned his cruiser going 90. There was no time for anything else. It happened about two hours after he came on shift that day ... even before we got word of what was happening in the city."

"I knew it had to be something for him to not answer my emergency text. I knew it. Dad would have ... would have ..."

The sheriff nodded like he was trying to contain big emotions. "Yes he would have," he agreed. "Now I want you to mind Dr. Riccardo here and let her take a look at you. You know your dad would have wanted to make sure that you were ok. Lee will go with you so you don't have to be scared. I'll be waiting to talk to you afterwards and we'll figure out what needs to be done. But I don't want you worrying about a thing. Understand young lady?" He gave me a one armed hug like he wanted to use two arms but worried about pushing some kind of boundary.

I nodded. What else was I supposed to do? He was the sheriff, my dad's boss, and his friend. He looked at Lee and gave him the what for glare that he'd always been good at giving. Lee said, "I'll stay with her dad."

"See that you do," he said then Dr. Riccardo the long-legged blonde led us into the clinic with Sgt. Watson being pushed in a wheelchair behind her. I would have thought he'd make a fuss about that until I realized it wasn't the doctor's bouncy ponytail that he was watching.


	10. Chapter 10

**Part Ten**

"Damn it Lee! I told you to stay with her!"

"Dad! She was changing her clothes!" There was a squeak of embarrassed outrage in Lee's voice but there was anger too. I kinda remember him having fun pounding on Toby after he pulled him off me but I went unconscious before I got to see who won.

I heard the sheriff growl and wanted to say it wasn't Lee's fault, that it was partly mine for hurting Toby's pride. And that I'd been beat on harder and lived to tell the tale. But mostly all I wanted to do was tell them to go away or be quiet because they were making my head hurt again.

As I lay there I realized there were other people in the room too. "Why is she taking so long to wake up?" That was Sarge.

Blondie long-legs answered, "She's extremely malnourished, traumatized, sleep-deprived, and as verbally combative as she was I didn't even dare do a sex kit on her to see if she's been sexually abused. She's talks a good line however she all but admits that the men in the group she was part of before they abandoned her were attempting to molest her."

The sheriff growled, "She said that?"

"Not in those exact words. But she appears to have some emotional stunting. She is both extremely mature, yet extremely immature for a fifteen year old girl."

Lee muttered, "That's just DeeDee being DeeDee."

"Excuse me?" she asked.

The sheriff explained, "Witt ... her father ... was very protective. As a cop you see both the worst and the best of people ... but mostly the worst. He ... sheltered ... his daughter. Ask the daughter of any cop and you'll probably find the same thing. But with Witt it could be pretty heavy handed. Deandra Dawn didn't seem to be bothered by it, she never rebelled that I was aware of. Witt was always saying how proud he was of her and how she gave him and Carla so much less trouble than her brother ever did."

I could hear papers flipping and then someone else said, "Todd Phillips. Nineteen. Was at university on Z-Day." I think it was the guy that had been giving me all these stupid word association and ink blob tests.

"That'd be him. Todd was a good kid but he could be a peckerwood too. Too smart for his own good. He didn't have to work hard enough for what he wanted. He was the kind of kid that thrived on pranks and partying and could get away with it because he never had to study to pass the test. Drove Witt crazy because he knew Todd was meant for better things than what he seemed to be satisfied with achieving."

I'd never heard Toddie described better but at the same time it bothered me to hear people criticizing my brother even if he could be a jerk most of the time. It didn't seem fair since he can't be here to defend himself. They were still talking but moved out into what I knew was the hallway. Not everyone had left the room. I heard a chair pull up next to where I was laying. "Did you get an ear full?"

I cracked an eye open and said, "Just tell me you pounded Toby righteously."

"Me and about three other guys. The NGs have him now. God help him when the Major is done with him."

"NGs?"

"National Guard. Major Jeffries ..."

"That's Sgt. Watson's boss."

"Er ... yeah ... I guess in a way. Not his immediate boss but close enough." After a minute he asked, "How stupid would it be if I asked you if you hurt?"

"Kinda stupid but not too bad." I checked under the covers to make sure I still had clothes on and then sat up with a little help from Lee. "Am I in trouble?"

"No. Why?"

I shrugged. "Because people are weird and don't make a lot of sense these days."

"Oh."

"And I'm sorry your dad growled at you. It isn't your fault Toby is a jerk."

"You're right about that. But not about it not being my fault you got hurt. I should have made sure the room was secure before you stepped inside. I underestimated Toby and I shouldn't have. Or it could have been something or someone else. I made a mistake and you paid for it. Dad was right about that part."

"Yeah, like I was gonna let you follow me when there wasn't a back on that stupid gown."

Lee wouldn't look straight at me but he did try not to grin. Then he got serious again. "I'm glad you're back DeeDee."

"Were you serious about helping me go home Lee?"

"Yeah. But Dad will want to talk to you first. Uh ... see ..."

Slowly I asked, "What? Is ... is it bad?"

"It wasn't supposed to be. And we can fix some of it maybe but ..."

"But what?"

He sighed. "The town turned into an evacuation point. There wasn't room for everyone. Empty buildings and houses and the stuff in them were ... er ... commandeered."

I sat there trying to take in what he was saying and understand it. "You mean ... you mean there's someone living in my house now? That it isn't my house anymore?"

"Yeah."

I drew my knees up to my chin and hid my eyes. "All I wanted was a picture. I'm forgetting what they look like."

"Oh hey. Dad is going to kill me if I make you cry."

"I'm not crying."

"The sheets are wet."

"Shut up."

"DeeDee ... the furniture and stuff got used ... and the food ... and clothes ... but personal items were boxed up and put in storage. It's supposed to be anyway. There ... there's been a few problems. But we can probably find some of your stuff. No one is going to want pictures."

I laid down, turned towards the wall and pulled the covers over my head. He tried to get me to talk again but I wasn't in the mood. A few other people tried to too. Eventually I went to sleep and they left me alone.

I woke up in the night needing to go to the bathroom. I swung my legs off the bed but instead of floor my feet landed on something live and squishy that grunted.

"Geez, what the heck Lee?" I hissed pulling my feet back in the bed really fast when I realized what ... who ... it was.

"Hmph."

"I said ..."

"I heard you. I ... look ... there's been a few people nosing around. They don't like the idea that someone from the city ..."

When he stopped I filled it in. "You mean I'm like unclean or something."

I heard him shrug. "Or something. Dad has someone stationed outside your room but I figured you might not like that so I ... look, you got a problem with me crashing here?"

I looked over the edge of the bed and told him, "Move. And don't peek. I'm in jammies."

"You're wearing scrubs not ... er ... pajamas."

"I'm sleeping in them so they're jammies. Now move."

"Oh," he said as I made a beeline for the door on the other side of the room.

I came out and asked, "How come the water still works?"

"Huh?"

"The toilet flushed."

"Oh. The town engineers hooked the old dam back up to the city power supply. It only runs part of each day but it works ... kinda ... most of the time anyway. The power hook up for the clinic and the school are more reliable and stay on all the time."

Thinking it over I said, "I guess that's cool."

"Yeah though people still complain because it isn't on all the time or because certain things are on the forbidden list ... like TVs, freezers, heaters and other things that pull a lot of juice. You get caught running a forbidden item and you get your power connection dismantled."

"Bet some people are mad about their Xbox."

He snorted. "They've got rooms set up at the school you can earn credits to use if you've got it that bad. Same for computers and stuff like that."

"I guess there's a lot of things that are different."

"Yeah," he said quietly.

Trying to sound nonchalant I told him, "It's not like I really expected things to be the same you know."

"DeeDee, it's OK to be mad ... about your house and stuff. Even if no one else understands I do. They took Laura's things and ... and ... and Mom's too."

I felt like a jerk. "I ... I didn't even ask about Laura."

"She and Glenn ... I found them ... I didn't say anything to Dad but I think they were out behind the bleachers making out and they got caught by some infecteds. I told him that it looked like Glenn had put up a fight trying to protect her ... not that ... you know ... she didn't have all her clothes on."

"Oh Lee."

"Yeah, so anyway I just thought ... if you knew about that you'd know that ... that if you wanted to talk to me but didn't want me to say anything you'd know I could ... not tell anyone I mean. That I wouldn't rat on you."

I sighed. "I was telling the truth. Those guys didn't mess with me Lee. I don't care what Dr. Ponytail thinks. I'm not talking about it with her and that's it. Sure they wanted to but I turned 'em down and it never got to where they could force me. It might have. That's why I was thinking about leaving but they left me first. So there. Either believe me or not. I don't care."

A second passed before he said, "After seeing what you did to Toby out in the parking lot I think I'll choose to believe you. Too bad you couldn't swing like that during games."

"Geez thanks."

"No problem." I heard his jaw crack from a yawn. "You mind if I catch some z's? I'm beat."

"Go ahead."

"You should sleep too. Dr. Riccardo says you are sleep-deprived."

"Dr. Riccardo can mind her own business."

When Lee didn't answer I realized he was asleep. I scooted out of the end of the bed and got this notebook after making sure no one had been reading it. I've written down what I wanted to write down, the stuff I think is important right now. Now I just have to wait for the sun to come up.

And I'm not sleep-deprived. I'll sleep when I'm good and ready to sleep. That blonde pony-tail is not going to tell me what to do. She might be able to lead Sgt. Watson around with her you know whats but not me.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part Eleven**

"Girls. Geez. We're in the middle of the zombiapocalypse and you still worry about your weight."

"Don't be a dork," I told Lee. "All I said was that I'm 4'11" and unless I want my butt to get as big and round as a beach ball I need to eat what a 4'11" person is supposed to eat, not what a dimwitted 5'11" guy eats. So stop putting stuff on my tray."

A catty voice chimed in with, "Yeah DeeDee. C'mon and eat. You look like a toothpick with boobs and a pointy head. It's not very attractive."

I sighed. Just my luck. The three scream queens survived and picked up where they left off making my life H E double hockey sticks. However, they were about to learn I was done being a doormat. "Denise! Wow, look at you though. You've really perfected the vamp look. Pale and sickly really suits you. It really, really does."

Her mouth fell open in shock. It had taken a year in purgatory but I'd finally learned to fight back.

"And Brenna. You are rockin' that fresh as a daisy zombie girl thing. Is it make up or is it real?"

Leila was the smartest of the three and got before I turned the crosshairs on her, dragging away the other two with her while they still looked back at me confused.

"Dang," Lee whispered. "What is up with you? I know things were bad for you but you're home now. You don't have to act like that. No need for the cat girl routine."

I shrugged and started mixing the scrambled eggs, cheese, and sausage on my plate into a nearly unidentifiable mess. I figured if it was going to taste gross it might as well look gross. Cafeteria food is still cafeteria food even when the world has ended. Turning to Lee I said, "I want to be left alone. What they wanted was to go back to running my life the way they always had. What I wanted was more important than what they wanted so I made it happen. I'll give you your space."

I tried to stand up and take my tray but he grabbed my arm. "Sit down. All I meant was why so touchy. You never cared what they said before."

And apparently boys were still idiots too. "Oh I cared," I answered him. "I just wasn't going to let anyone else know that. But ... oh just forget it."

Then that Cochran guy suddenly appeared and sat down right next to me and told Lee, "Hey Bro ... your ol' man said I can take this watch. He said you're scheduled for debriefing."

Lee said a bad word and I kicked him under the table. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For the F-bomb."

"Cochran curses too."

"I know. I heard him yesterday."

"How come you aren't kicking him?" he complained.

"Because you are normally a gentleman, know me better, and have better sense."

Lee was scowling and Cochran was smiling. Two seconds after what I said registered Lee started grinning which set Cochran to frowning. Lee said, "Yeah. I do." With a warning look at Cochran he turned back to me and said, "I'll catch up with you as soon as I can. Sometimes the debriefings go a little long."

"OK."

Lee walked away and Cochran eased back on the the intentional irritation. "Friends with Berio a long time?"

"Sheriff Berio was my dad's trainer when he first became a deputy. Lee and I have just sort of always known each other I guess."

"He you're boyfriend?"

I looked at Cochran and rolled my eyes. "Is that all guys think about?"

"Maybe not all ... but a lot. In case you haven't noticed there aren't exactly a crowd of girls our age to talk about it to though."

I had kinda noticed that. "I know three that are."

"The ones over there that you were fighting with?"

"Not fighting with. Discouraging. Go show them your six pack. Last I remember they were really into that sort of thing."

I don't know what he would have said to that because I nearly fell backwards off the bench when Sgt. Watson sat down on my other side. Hard. And on top of that nearly cracked Cochran with his crutch.

Cochran's voice went up an octive. He stood up real fast and said, "Sgt. Watson."

"Go check the duty roster Cochran."

"Uh ... Sheriff Berio said that DeeDee here needed an escort and ..."

"I heard what the sheriff said. And that's Ms. Phillips to you until I say otherwise. I will be escorting her back to the clinic."

When Cochran left at a real quick walk I turned to Sgt. Watson and said, "I could have handled him. He's a puppy compared to what I've been dealing with."

He snorted. "I didn't do it for you. I did it so Cochran wouldn't get in trouble or cause a fight. You're too young and like he was telling you, there aren't all that many females in your age range around."

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

He sighed. "I could say it nice but apparently you prefer the unvarnished truth."

Since it was true I just asked, "Which is?"

"Girls don't run as fast as guys." I sighed when I understood what he meant. Sarge continued, "I was told the school was completely overrun. The scientists we've got around here think the infecteds were actually attracted to the school first because they sensed prey either by sound or even pheromones."

"Hmph. If they smelled anything it would have been the guys' locker room. That place always reeked."

Sgt. Watson looked at me and said carefully, "You're home Kid, you don't need to act so tough anymore."

"I'm not home. Apparently I don't have a home. Someone else is living in it and the stuff that used to be mine is likely being used by someone else." I shook my head when he started to say something. "No. I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm kinda hacked off but I didn't have a lot of hope there'd be anything left when I got here anyway." After a paused to let the burn cool down I said, "The town is different than what I expected."

"How so? A lot of the residents said it is almost normal."

I nodded slowly. "Exactly. It feels like the Twilight Zone. To me the city is 'normal' or the way things should be. Here is ... here is like the echo of a really old memory. It's real ... but only because it happened in the past."

Giving me a look that was uncomfortably understanding he told me, "Give yourself time."

Problem was I didn't believe that was gonna work. I told him, "That's the thing. I don't know how much time I've got and if people are all happy with this Mayberry make believe and wanting to forget what is really out there ... I don't know how much time they've got left either."

He glanced around quickly and then said, "If you're through eating we need to get you back to the clinic."

"Whatever."


	12. Chapter 12

**Part Twelve**

Sarge complained, "Slow down Kid. I can't exactly run with this crutch."

I felt like being in a snit but I slowed down. "I'm perfectly capable of walking from the cafeteria to the clinic. I don't need an 'escort' or a babysitter."

"Yeah. You do."

I thought about that. "Because of the girl thing or because people are freaked out I came out of the city?" He glanced at me. "Lee told me his dad posted a guard because people had made some noise."

He muttered, "Boy talks too much."

"Maybe. But I'd rather know than not. Although technically I really don't know anything except I make people nervous. Is it just nervousness or is it something more?"

He sighed. "Kid ..."

"Or is it somebody doesn't want me to do any talking until they hear what I might be able to say?"

That got me a sharp glance. "I'd be careful letting people know that you're a lot smarter than they think you are."

"Sorta like not letting them know about the stuff in my pack?"

"Along those lines. Where is it by the way?"

"In Sheriff Berio's office. He was in a meeting when Lee and I went by this morning so I just kinda of ... borrowed ... a little space in the supply closet in there. I figure if someone goes through it one of two things will happen. The sheriff will be in on it and I'll have things I have to figure out; or, the sheriff is going to rip someone a new one for violating the privacy of his office which will give me time to figure things out. Either way I'll have added to the list of people I can't trust."

He nodded. "Not bad Kid, not bad."

We weren't exactly gliding along so there was some time and I decided to ask him, "Can I trust your girlfriend?"

He gave me an irritated look. "She's not my girlfriend. We ... er ... we're seeing each other. That's all."

"Are you sleeping together?"

"What the Sam Hill does that have to do with the price of beans?"

I shrugged. "In other words you are but you aren't real secure about it yet ... or comfortable with people knowing about it yet ... or something."

"That ... is none of your business Kid."

"No, it isn't. But when you answer me I have to know if you're telling me the truth or if you've got the lusty fuzzies and only think you are telling me the truth."

Giving me the kind of look Dad would have given me he snapped, "Hell's bells ... what are lusty fuzzies ... and how the hell do you know about 'em?"

My lips twitched with a smile that wanted to sneak onto my face. "My dad didn't shelter me quite as much as people think. He set boundaries. He ran interference so I wouldn't have to deal with certain kinds of guys. But he said he didn't want me to grow up stupid to the tricks people ... in particular guys ... can play. Lusty fuzzies are what happens to people when they are in love or lust and only want to see the good side of the person they are in love or lust with."

After a moment of thinking about it Sgt. Watson snorted in amusement. "OK, good name for it." Then all the funning went out of his voice and he sighed. "I'm not saying you can or can't trust Maria. You'll have to decide that for yourself. But she ... she means well. She believes in what she does. But like with anyone else you'd be foolish to not ... er ... be cautious."

"She doesn't like me."

"Now hold on a ..."

"Relax. It's a girl thing. She thinks I have a crush on you."

He had to stop when he choked on some spit. "Damn you say the most outrageous things."

"It's true. That's what she thinks. I don't though. I like you. Just not in a mushy kind of way. You're just ... normal. And you aren't weird ... well, you are but not in THAT kind of way. You're like the sheriff. You shoot straight."

He didn't say anything as we made our way into the clinic but before I had to go answer more questions he stopped me and said, "I like you too Kid which is why I'm going to give you some more advice. Those people in there? Don't lie to them. But you don't necessarily have to tell them everything either. If they make you feel uncomfortable, tell them. If you don't want to answer something, tell them. Don't play games. And if you don't understand something, tell them that too and ask them to explain. They might not but at least you'll know one way or the other where you stand. Got it?"

Before he walked away I asked, "Should I be afraid of them? Will they hit me if I don't do what they say?"

He got an outraged look on his face. "Hell no. And for that matter if anyone ever hits you, you come tell me about it. I've got a little sister ... she's older than you ... or would have been," he said sadly. "You remind me of her a bit." After another sigh he said, "Go on. Sooner you start the sooner you'll finish."


	13. Chapter 13

Part Thirteen ****

I was sitting in the sheriff's office spinning around in his desk chair when he came in. He stopped short, nodded to the man that had been about to follow him in and then shut the door in his face. I got up out of the chair but wanted to keep spinning. I didn't though, that would have been a "childish and emotionally stunted" thing to do.

I went to the other side of his desk and sat in the chair the man outside probably would have sat in. Instead of sitting behind his desk the sheriff sat in the chair next to the one I was in. "Deandra Dawn, that face would curdle milk."

Trying harder for him than I would have for most people I kept my voice even as I said, "They don't believe me."

"Who doesn't believe you and about what?"

I tried to get rid of the pouty face I knew that I had on. I was trying real hard. But when you're short and have a small, turned up nose it doesn't give you quite as much scope to look righteously indignant as a long legged blonde bombshell. "Dr. Riccardo and those military people. They don't believe I've been in the city the whole time. They want me to prove I'm not lying."

The sheriff's lips tightened. "And did they say just how they wanted you to prove this?"

"I have to take them back the way I came."

I could tell he was mad. "And you don't want to go."

"No." There, I said it. But then I said, "I'll take them as far as the bridge. I'll show them how I used the harness and where I climbed but I am not going to cross that bridge."

"You don't have to do that much if you don't want to," he said fidgeting in his chair the way only an adult could get away with. "There's absolutely no sense in this."

"Well if I don't then they'll be able to tell everyone that I lied so they won't be so freaked out that people can get out of the city despite their dumb wall."

He gave me a look then sighed. "Witt said you had a good brain." He was quiet for a moment. "They could say that anyway even if you took them all the way into the city."

I snorted in a less than ladylike way and said, "If I took them all the way into the city they wouldn't be coming back out. I might not be coming back. They can't do what you have to and I can't make them. There was only twelve puss brains yesterday and they just stood there shaking in their boots and wouldn't shoot because they were going to hit their precious trucks and might have to walk or something. The people around here are too soft." I looked at him under my lashes and added, "Even Lee. He's too nice. To survive the city you have to ... lose something. It's going to get like that here too."

"Deandra Dawn ..."

I shook my head. "You still have your lights and your water on demand. You still have food ... it may not be the same kind of food as before but it is still there and no one goes hungry. You feel safe. But you aren't. And that's the part that will get people killed. That wall gave you some breathing room that you should have been using to get ready. All people did was try to go back to the way things used to be. It'll take more than a wall for it to be that way again."

He sighed. "Well you're in a mood young lady."

I thought I'd completely goofed. Dad had always said if I was in trouble and he wasn't around I was to go to the sheriff but it didn't sound like he was hearing me. Then he surprised me.

"But then again I've been in a mood for months now myself. That's why I've been so hard on Lee. But I'm just one man, even if I'm his father. When everyone else is telling him something else it is very hard to get him to believe me. One of the reasons that I agreed to him going out on the salvaging runs despite his age is so that he could be exposed to things he wouldn't be if I kept him wrapped up and safe here in town. I already lost his mother and sister, I don't want to lose him too and if that means making him angry enough to see things he doesn't want to see then so be it." He sighed before adding, "We'll get back to the issue with the infecteds in a moment. Now you tell me what else is bothering you."

"Aren't the puss brains enough?"

"Deandra Dawn, I'll have you know Witt would get that exact same look on his face when something had burnt his tail feathers and he needed to talk about it."

I thought about it then said, "There's nothing wrong with not being ready to take on all the rights and responsibilities of being a fully grown woman."

His eyebrows parked themselves up in his hairline.

I continued on. "Seriously, just because I don't cuss and don't care to discuss certain things does not mean that I am traumatized or emotionally stunted."

The beginning of an all too understanding look crossed his face. "Whew. Said that did they?"

"She did. Just because she's tall and looks like a model and can lead men around with both her front side and her back does not mean she knows everything."

"Dr. Riccardo?"

"Yes. And I do not have a crush on Sgt. Watson. I didn't have a problem with her thinking that even if it isn't true but that was a very rude thing to say out loud; especially since she said it in front of everyone and they smiled and laughed at me like it was silly and cute. Silly and cute. Grrrr. First off I haven't known him long enough to go stupid on him like that and mostly I wouldn't anyway because it would be a bad way to repay him for getting me a lift back home. He's just nice ... like Dad and you. A real man kind of guy. I can tell the difference you know, even if she doesn't think I can."

"Really."

"Yes. And Dad would have had kittens if I'd ... well you know what I mean. Nice girls that want to stay nice just don't act like that. And no matter what they say they can't make me act like that or even want to act like that. She seems bent about the fact that I won't no matter how much I get egged on."

He nodded. "I happen to agree with you there, but I'll let you in on a little secret. I'm not too sure that Dr. Riccardo understands that. She's a nice woman but she's ... hmmmm ... a liberated kind. What she considers ... er ... age appropriate and allowable just isn't the way girls around here are supposed to be raised."

Only part of what he said made sense. I asked him, "What's being liberated got to do with it? I'm liberated too. If I was eighteen I could vote. Dad would have never made me marry someone I don't want to like they do in some other countries. I don't have to be a slave to anyone. I could work a job and have a bank account if things like that still existed. I can own things in my own name. And I've got opinions all my own. Being liberated is not the problem. Being stupid seems to be their problem."

I was stepping close to the line and I guess the Sheriff felt he had to defend the adults. "Whoa now Honey. They aren't stupid people. Actually they are very smart ... maybe too smart. They believe in their smartness so much they can't see the danger that they could be wrong."

"Like Toddie."

He looked at me then admitted slowly, "Like your brother. And speaking of, you ready to talk to me about what's been going on with you since Z-Day?"

So I told him. Some parts made him sad. Some parts made him mad. But he never called me childish and he never called me a liar which was way better than anyone else had done. Sgt. Watson hadn't wanted to hear what I could tell him because he knew it would make him mad or embarrass him. Lee couldn't hear what I was saying because he was too nice to understand what I had I lived with. The sheriff wasn't squeamish like that. He knew he had to know so he could put things in perspective.


	14. Chapter 14

Part Fourteen ****

It has been a couple of very unpleasant days. I am right back where I started from ... maybe not geographically but that doesn't seem to matter very much.

Lee and I were cutting through the park and it was a perfect day for being outside. Somehow that should have told me to watch out. Things are always best before they suddenly aren't. I'd spent another night in the clinic but the sheriff had mentioned that he didn't feel that was appropriate and that he wanted me to come live with them. I was going to use Laura's room. For some reason Lee and I started bickering. It was for no good reason but I guess that's the way it usually starts.

"Don't be a dork."

"Will you stop doing that?" he snapped.

"What?"

"Making me feel ... I don't know ... that you're suddenly older than me. 'Cause you're not."

Nonchalantly I told him, "Nope. I'm not. But just because you are older doesn't mean you aren't a dork. Why my mom and yours always thought Laura would want to play with me when she was a year older than you is beyond me."

"I don't know what your mom thought but mine hoped you'd slow Laura down. She said she was growing up too fast."

I shrugged. "Opposite on my side. My mom thought I was going too slow on purpose. I suppose they thought if they put us in a shaker that we would at least rub off on each other and even it out a little. Geez. For smart people our moms could sometimes totally miss the point."

Lee was silent then said, "How can you talk like that? I mean they ... they died. Probably really horribly."

I wanted to kick him in the ankle but didn't because he'd promised to take me to the warehouse where all the "personal items" had been stored. "Look. It's not that I don't feel bad if I start you know dwelling on the how they died part. I cried a lot in the beginning. I cried so much that I could have been puss brain chow a hundred times over if Sherry hadn't been willing to put up with me until I toughened up. But if you think I'm bad then you just don't understand how bad people can get."

He shook his head in denial.

"Seriously Lee. People are bad and hard. Our dads knew that. Our moms probably did too when they let themselves think about it. But here's the thing, why should I Iet the way Mom died take away from how she lived? My mom was a pain but she was my pain and was kinda cool in her own way. We had a garden. She made cookies and baked our bread so we didn't have to eat the gross spongy stuff from the store. She was real organized so that we could live in our little house without going crazy so Dad didn't have to worry about money so much and could focus on staying safe. Mom may not have worked a job like your mom did where she saved people's lives every day, but she was still a good person."

"I didn't say she wasn't," he said defensively.

"I know. I just meant I don't want to make how she died to where it covers up who she was when she was alive. That's all. Mom would be sad if all I remembered of our time together was the last bad thing rather than all the good and normal stuff that came before it. I mean why do you do good stuff for and with people if it isn't to balance out the bad stuff that is bound to happen?"

He was silent and then grumbled, "You're even stranger than you used to be DeeDee."

I shrugged trying to show he wasn't close to hurting my feelings. "Probably. A year on the run from Puss Brains and perverts will do that to you."

We walked another five minutes in silence when he asked out of the blue, "Were you really in the city the whole time?"

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned on him. "You know you can call me a lot of things but liar isn't one of them. Go away Lee. Leave. Now. I don't need a babysitter."

'Hey ..."

"No. Just like with the puss brains and thinking you're all safe and crap here in town, you are listening to the wrong people. I could tell you things about what it is like to really have to deal with puss brains. I could teach you things about how to avoid them, outsmart them, avoid being chomped, win in a hand-to-hand fight. You haven't asked me one single question about that. Not how did I survive, what did I have to do day in and day out. No one around here has. Not even those so-called scientists at the clinic. That's sad. That means you think you know everything. Well you don't." We were drawing a crowd but I didn't care. "For instance, you think it is that dinky, stupid wall that keeps the puss brains out. It's not. It's that they've still had things to keep them occupied in the city. Like when I left they were starting to form a horde ... they do that sometimes. And the horde was attracted to a big fire that had started downtown. That's how I was able to get away without having to splat too many of them. That's why there weren't any to take notice of how I got across the bridge on the scaffolding. But eventually some puss brain is going to get hungry and they aren't going to be able to find anything left in the city and they are going to look across the river and their tummies are going to growl. That's what drives them the most, hunger."

Acting superior he said, "Obviously. The scientists told us that a long time ago."

"Yeah, but did they tell you that puss brains still think? That they plan? That they can learn? That they have strategies? They aren't all just instinct; yes, some of them are but not all of them. And some of them still feel pain. That's why you don't look them in the eye when you are putting them out of their misery. They heal fast too, the longer they've been infected the faster they heal. Now put all of that together Lee. Really think about it. If they feel pain and don't like it then they'll fight being in pain. When they don't get enough to eat it hurts them. They'll figure out a way to escape that pain and they'll be able to take risks that uninfected people wouldn't because they don't have to worry so much about being Humpty Dumpty."

"The infecteds' brains don't work like that," he denied. "They can't. They're too messed up. The doctors all say so."

"All the doctors or only the ones saying what you want to hear?" I shook my head. "You and the people around here have bought into that stupid zombie mess. Puss brains are still people. They still breathe. Their hearts still beat. They still think even if it is in a different way than uninfecteds do. They still need to eat to live. They still poop and urinate. They are more than just animal instincts. Most of them aren't real bright compared to what they were before they were infected but there are a few that are close ... or at least close some of the time and it isn't just by accident. And those are the leaders that can gather the other puss brains together and get the hordes started. And when that happens they get like this hive mentality and work together and work smarter for some reason. It will be a horde with a smart leader that figures a way across the bridges ... not just the bridge I came across but any or all of them. And when that happens it won't just be here that the puss brains head it will be every place they can spread. And when that happens there won't be any place to run."

A man from the crowd said, "Then we'll fight them."

I turned to him and said, "It isn't just a matter of being willing, you have to be ready, and you aren't. And you have to know the best ways to fight them so the fewest people on your side get chomped on. And I haven't seen that you know how. That's why I didn't stay in the city by myself. I wouldn't have been able to survive. You need numbers to cover your back and you cover theirs."

A sharp female voice snapped, "That will be enough."

I turned and saw the woman - Major Jeffries - that had all but called me a liar straight out. I told her, "You just don't want me telling people the truth. You want people to think I'm a liar, that I'm just a kid with a big imagination. You want people to forget what it was like a year ago because if they think about it they'll know that it could happen again and some of them will panic and you'll lose control. Well I tell you what, you wanted me to take you back the way I came. You want me to prove to you that I did just what I said I did. OK. I'll do it. But not just with you military types. Some regular people have to go with us so they can see too. And when ... if ... we come back you have to let them tell what they saw ... the truth, not just what you want them to say. Deal?"

"I do not make deals with children."

I let the "children" remark pass and asked, "Too afraid that I really am telling the truth ... a truth that you don't want anyone else to know? What are you? Chicken or something?"

Lee yelped, "DeeDee!"

I turned on him, "Stop ... being ... so ... nice! It is going to get you dead or worse, infected! I've seen enough dead and dying people! I don't want to see anymore! I sure don't want it to be my friends!"

Two guys with medic uniforms came up behind me and I couldn't move fast enough. I felt a pinch in my arm. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But then again, it was like being the lone person in a world of puss brains. I didn't have anyone to cover my back.


	15. Chapter 15

Part Fifteen ****

My head was pounding. Again.

I heard the sheriff yell from some place close by. "What happened to the damned Constitution?!"

"She was a danger," I heard a woman say. It wasn't Dr. Ponytail's voice so I was going to go with the Major or someone like her.

"To whom?! You? Your plans?! What?! And to simply drug her?! In public?! Have we sunk this low?! My son, who was her deputized escort, was hit so hard with the butt of a gun by one of your people that he's lost two teeth and required a number of stitches inside his mouth. That tells me that the girl needs protecting not the other way around. So tell me again, who was she a danger to exactly."

There was a brief pause and then in a reasonable voice the woman replied, "To herself of course. It's obvious she is suffering some kind of severe psychosis. The poor child actually believes she has been in the city this entire time and everyone knows that is impossible. Isn't that correct Major Jeffries?"

OK, so the woman talking wasn't the Major. So who was she? Then I heard Dr. Ponytail say, "I'm going on record that I do not agree with the heavy handed tactics being used. I'm the girl's physician of record. The drugs used were not approved by me and the dosage was totally inappropriate. Even if the girl is suffering from severe mental trauma as Dr. Reed suggests ..."

A man's voice piped up angrily, "Are you questioning my diagnosis?"

"I'm saying that a second opinion is needed on this yes. If for no other reason than to circumvent any suspicion that this girl is being railroaded to shut her up. I can tell you that there is already talk ..."

The man flippantly said, "People always talk."

"People yes ... but security personnel, no ... and not just the national guardsmen."

The woman I hadn't identified by name yet asked, "I assume that you've heard this from your sergeant?"

There was a pause. "Actually Sgt. Watson and I are not currently ... in communication."

I could actually hear the surprise in the silence that followed. Carefully the woman then said, "Surely you are exaggerating the reaction. Why make such a fuss over one girl? We've handled deranged people before without this level of outcry."

Irritably Dr. Ponytail said, "Yeah, about that. I think you may have overplayed your hand this time. People - even some of my own staff - are beginning to wonder how many of those people were actually mentally disturbed and how many simply weren't bringing facts from outside the protected zone that agreed with your theories ... yours and the Committee's. I myself am beginning to question a few things."

Dr. Reed said, "This is ridiculous. Surely everyone must understand that Dr. Hanson and I ... and the others ... only have the best interest of everyone at heart."

The sheriff jumped back in and said point blank, "Regardless of your intentions, you have exactly two hours from this point to produce Deandra Dawn - undrugged and unharmed - or you will find yourself deposed from your positions by the people of this community. She will not just disappear like the others did. She's a fifteen year old girl. I don't care whether you believe her story or not because it is immaterial at this point. The fact remains that she is a citizen of the town I serve and as such has my protection. She's a minor. Any kind of legal maneuvering that you are thinking of requires at a bare minimum that she has an adult representing her interests during the proceedings. Her interests, not the interests of your damn Committee."

The woman I now knew was called Dr. Hanson said, "Major Jeffries, the Sheriff is making threats against me ... and the Committee."

Major Jefferies didn't answer for a moment, like she was weighing her words. "I warned you this could happen. The Colonel warned you this could happen. The control and authority we have in this area is only nominal. When Command stopped communicating ..."

The Sheriff and Dr. Ponytail shouted "What?!" at the same time.

Drs. Reed and Hanson yelled, "Major! That is private Committee business!" over the top of them.

The Major was laconic. "Perhaps it was but your ... actions ... have led to a ... let us call it a minor revolt in the civilian staff we've been forced to employ to fill the gaps in communication that were created last year when so many of the Colonel's staff was lost in that riot. I am sure that the word is spreading across town even as we speak."

"This ... this is totally unacceptable!" Dr. Reed said. I could hear anger and fear in equal measure in his voice.

"Unacceptable or not, it is the result of your actions ... yours and Dr. Hanson's ... by choosing to act so precipitously and against counsel."

"Bah!" the sheriff spit. "We're wasting time. Mark my words, the girl is released unharmed and un-coerced. You have no other options."

I could almost see him slam his hat on and stomp away. Obviously he hadn't known I was only a few doors down or he might have just come in and got me. The rest of them continued talking but they moved away as well and the automatic lights went out in the hallway.

I sat up carefully and took stock of my surroundings. They'd made a huge mistake not tying me up. I carefully tried the door but it was locked but I wasn't too worried. If they were dumb enough not to tie me they were dumb enough to miss other avenues of escape. The window was locked but then again I wasn't too worried about that either. If worse came to worse I could always break it out. But that would make noise and I didn't want that except as a last resort.

I looked around some more and then up. And grinned. I wouldn't even have to move furniture. There was a medical cart and a book case against the wall. Our group had learned a gazillion ways of getting out of places that supposedly we shouldn't have been able to get out of. They sent me up into the acoustical ceiling a lot of the time because I was the smallest and lightest. I would then distract the puss brain(s) and those that couldn't go through the ceiling would go through a window or door. Divide and conquer.

I wasn't dealing with puss brains. I was dealing with people that acted almost as dumb as puss brains could act on occasion. I escaped the prison they had fashioned for me with almost no trouble and total silence. I stayed on the main beams so that I wouldn't make the ceiling move or creak. Then I went looking for a room with an outside wall that had a window that I could open. Got it on the first try. Also "salvaged" some first aid supplies to replace the ones that I had used on Sgt. Watson and a couple of sharp instruments that would be useful if I was unable to get to my backpack in the sheriff's office.


	16. Chapter 16

Part Sixteen ****

I was almost out of the window when I wondered where Lee was. It was dark so given the time of year it was either very late afternoon or early evening. It might even be night I thought. I had no way of knowing exactly how much time I had been knocked out. Long enough for Lee to have what probably amounted to oral surgery. I then surmised that that was likely what the Sheriff was doing at the clinic, checking on Lee.

I pulled my leg back in and sighed. More than likely all I was doing was heading straight into more trouble. But Lee was a buddy ... you didn't let your buddy get chomped; figuratively or literally.

Staff was almost nonexistent on the second floor where I was. That told me it was probably "after hours." And they must have thought I was really zonked out since they didn't have a guard on the door or anything. I freaked for about two seconds wondering if there were any security cameras so I rushed back up into the ceiling like a good little mousey. I gave a brief smile remembering that "Mouse" is what Moses had called me the first few days after Sherry and I had joined his group, before he'd bothered to learn my real name.

I looked for wires and cameras and found none. I guess they thought observation windows were sufficient. There hadn't even been a window in the door of the room where I was held. Someone really, really didn't know what they were doing. I knew the sheriff was smart and the military people had to be smart - or at least some of them - and you would think the Committee people would have been somewhat smart. But apparently they weren't working together which wasn't smart but turned out to be good for me. I didn't relax but it made them seem less overwhelming and unbeatable.

I set off to do a serious search and my luck was in, I found Lee in a room in the opposite corner from where I had been locked up. There were about a dozen beds in there but only about four people occupying them and all but Lee looked like they were hard asleep. I was about to slide down inside the curtains that enclosed his bed when someone came on the ward, looked around like she wasn't trying to look around, and then headed straight for Lee's area and swooped down on him.

I stiffened thinking she was attacking him and was ready to bash her when suddenly I realized he wasn't exactly objecting to getting manhandled. "Oh Lee. Oh Lee," the girl was saying in this retarded breathy voice.

Oh brother.

He sounded all garbled from where I was at which told me he was either pretty goofed up with dental pain killers or his mouth was pretty wrecked ... or both. But seems the girl wasn't having any trouble understanding him.

"Oh Lee."

Lee

"No, I don't know where she is at. You know Mother doesn't tell me anything."

Lee

"Lee, I can't believe you'd ask me to do something like that. Besides, it isn't safe. Dr. Reed says that she is really, really bad off. The answers on all of her tests were so terrible ... frankly now that I know how bad she really is I'm scared to death to think about what she could have done to you at any point you were alone with her."

Lee making a bunch of racket.

"Don't take it the wrong way. Of course I feel bad for the poor girl. Lord only knows what she had been through. But Dr. Reed, Mother, and Major Jeffries all agree that there is no way that she could have come from the city. It just ... well ... "

Lee making a growling sound.

"How can you think that?! Mother works herself to death for the health and safety of this community. Not that there is a lot of appreciation. I don't know what the problem is. Everywhere Mother went she was always afforded a great deal more courtesy than she gets here."

Lee

"I'm sure your father is misunderstanding the situation. Dr. Reed suggested that he is looking for a substitute for your sister. He called it transference of affection."

I almost transferred my booted foot to her backside. It didn't sound like Lee was too happy either.

"Honestly Lee. How can you say such things? And do you know what I've risked to be with you? It has taken me forever to talk Mother around."

Lee

"I'm sure Mother is giving those men a good talking to. They obviously went beyond their instructions. Mother has to be so careful; people can get so devoted and get a little silly in their desire to fufill her wishes."

Lee

"What do you mean ... cr ... criminal proceedings?" the girl trilled. Yes I said trilled. That's the only word that fits that stupid giggly sound that came out of her mouth. "Lee, we are under martial law. Your father might think he has a certain amount of authority but the truth is that it all lies someplace far above him."

Lee

"Oh please don't be like that. Things are hard enough as it is. Everything is just all turned upside down at home. Mother is so upset about your poor friend. She said that it could have been me wandering lost and helpless and abused. It is why she ... well, I know it isn't very objective but it's why she is trying to help her as quickly as she is. But you know how it was for the others Lee. They just didn't want to let go of their delusions and they eventually ran off. And we just don't have the resources to hunt them down. And frankly, though please don't tell your father, I think she is doing it for you too. She knows how I feel about you, how ... how close we've become. She knows that girl is like a little sister to you. But you can't say anything Lee. Mother, because of her position, can't be seen as showing any kind of favoritism no matter how much it is deserved."

Gag me.

There was some more PDA type stuff though Lee looked like it hurt more than felt good.

"Oh Lee. I just can't wait for us to announce our relationship so we can meet each other openly. All of this sneaking around ... and meeting in dark places ... and ... and doing things we shouldn't ... wellllll ..."

There was a sound from out in the hallway and the girl straightened up and away from Lee like she hadn't just been about to jump his bones. "I have to go." And poof she snuck back out as quickly as she'd snuck in.

In through the door came a guy dressed in scrubs but carrying a sidearm so my guess is he wasn't the night nurse. He looked around half-heartedly and then went back out. Obviously they hadn't discovered I was gone yet but they might sooner rather than later so after checking to make sure the other patients in the rooms couldn't see me I popped off the ceiling tile and climbed down the junk that attached the bed to the wall.

When I got down I looked at Lee and his eyes were huge. I nearly laughed. Instead I kept a straight face and told him, "That had to be the most sickening display I've ever seen you in."

He tried to shake his head but I could tell it hurt so I stopped him. "Look, I don't have much time and I know your mouth and head are making you feel miserable. So, just answer me a couple of questions. Who's the sickly sweet thang that just left?"

"Eeeeshellll."

I thought it over then said, "Michelle? It wouldn't happen to be Michelle Hanson would it?"

He gave me a briefly surprised and then guarded look. I nodded. "Yeah. I'm putting a few things together. If I were you I'd be real careful she isn't leading you around by your ... er ... manly bits." Even in the dark I saw him flush dark red. "Look, that is none of my business. I know you only ever let me hang around because your mom and dad kinda pushed you to." He tried to say something and I shook my head. "No. Your mouth is too messed up to go into a long drawn out discussion. Facts are facts. But here's something to think over. Major Jeffries admitted in front of your dad and Dr. Po ... er ... Dr. Riccardo that Command stopped communicating at some point in the past ... maybe a while in the past; I'm not sure of the timeline."

His face told me he was horrified by that bit of info and he tried to say something again but I held my finger up to shush him. "I told you stop. For one I can't understand you too well and for number two I have got to get out of here before your precious committee members disappear me like all those other so-called deranged people they've tried to help. Run off my Aunt Fanny's fanny. If they did run off it was because they were trying to escape. Which is what I'm going to do."

Lee made more noise. "Boy, you sure are hard headed. I just came to make sure you were ok and to say I'm sorry that you got beat up over me ... again. And ... and to say goodbye. I'm heading straight out of here. Like right now. And to tell you thanks for being my friend. Just do me a favor ... watch your back ... and your dad's. People around here are in for a rude awakening pretty soon. It may not be this winter but I'm betting not too long after the spring thaw things will start changing. And that is if like you don't have a civil war before then."

I looked at him and then kissed his forehead. It wasn't like a real first kiss but it was better than nothing. He grabbed my arm but it wasn't with a lot of strength which added to the idea that he was kinda drugged up. I pulled his hand off and patted it. "Relax. There's only two possibilities here. I'm telling the truth that I survived the city for a year. Everyone agrees that that is next to impossible so therefore I've developed some skills I didn't have before all this mess started. Or two, I'm lying and I didn't spend a year in the city. But I still had to have spent that year someplace which still means that I've got skills I didn't have before. Either way I'm not the little kid I was when you asked me to Homecoming. And all my family is dead or might as well be. I'm leaving Lee ... this isn't home anymore."

Then I turned and skinnied back up into the ceiling and left. I hated lying to Lee. I really did. But I wasn't sure if I could completely trust him. Not because he would mean to hurt me but because he wouldn't want to see me get hurt. He'd either tell his dad or let it slip to his girlfriend. The sheriff would try and stop me for my own good and I'm sure the girlfriend would go straight to Mommy Dearest.

I was going to leave, just not as quickly as I wanted Lee to think.


	17. Chapter 17

Part Seventeen ****

First I knew I needed to get to the Sheriff's office to see if I could get my backpack. It wasn't easy but it should have been a lot harder than it was. The school had an amazing number of entrances and exits and not all of them were being watched. Oh sure, they had boarded them over but come on ... after a year in the city salvaging to survive there weren't too many places that I couldn't break into thanks to the ... er ... enlightening education I received from some of our less law abiding members.

Dad would have had a fit at what all I had learned. I'm learning to accept that. I spent a year being ashamed of what I had to do, wondering what my parents would think of me. I thought I would be able to put all of that behind me. I was obviously living on a different plane of reality. So, I've decided to stop worrying about it. There isn't anyone left that is responsible for me or who I might embarrass, that means I have to be responsible for myself and after all that I've been through I've given up being embarrassed for myself.

I used one of the basement windows on the original section of the school to get into the area of the basement where the ancient and defunct boiler was located before the new heating system was installed. I knew that the pot heads used to use the area to toke up during school from listening to Dad talk to some of the other deputies at departmental BBQs and stuff like that. It is amazing what you will learn by keeping your mouth shut, your ears open, and your eyes innocently directed away from the voices you are listening to.

I also knew from listening to the janitors complaining about the occasional rat problem the school had that if you crawled behind the old boiler and up the old air blower vent pipes that you could get all the way to the third floor of the school in the empty spaces left behind when the duct work was dismantled. There was a fourth and fifth floor but those had been closed off years ago and were used for storage when the two new wings had been built onto the high school.

I didn't need to go to the third floor, only the second where the sheriff's office was located. And when I had been in there spinning in his chair I had seen that the old grate was still right where it had always been when the room had been Mrs. Kirkpatrick's AV class. It was going to be a tight squeeze but I'd climbed in tighter ones. The problem was going to be getting out but I would cross that bridge when I came to it.

Once I finally maneuvered my way through and into the Sheriff's office it took me a while to get the vent cover off. In frustration I almost punched it off until I realized two of the screws were stripped and could be pushed out. It meant stripping a third screw and bending one corner of the vent cover to get out but I wasn't worried about that. It didn't matter whether the Sheriff noticed because I was going to leave him a clue anyway.

I stood up and cracked my back from being in such a tight space for too long. Then I headed right to the closet and opened it up. Sure enough the pack was where I left it but much to my disgust so was a couple of terse notes. One from the Sheriff and one from Sgt. Watson. No more telling secrets to anyone, not even people I wanted to trust.

Both notes said basically if I ran off they were going to make it so that sitting was going to be a painful exercise for a while. Well, that didn't exactly scare me because I'd seen real bad guys, lived with them, and there was no doubt that those two men could growl really well but I knew they'd never actually lay a hand on me. I opened my pack to check things over and found another note. This one from Sgt. Watson.

 _Don't know why but I have a feeling you are going to ignore good sense and run anyway regardless of what I have to say about it. Can't say I blame you but you better not get dead or infected Kid or you aren't going to like what I have to say about it. And that junk food is not going to carry you far. More than likely will make you sick as a dog if that is all you are counting on for food. This isn't much but they're better than what you've got. Don't know why I even care. You've been a pain in the backside from the word go._  
Brief and to the point. It choked me up some and I took the note and folded it into the bag that I around my neck; stuck the other two notes in there also. Sarge had given me some high calorie food bars. Right on the package it said "tastes like shortbread" which told me they probably tasted like cardboard or worse but beggars couldn't be choosey.

Now for the getting out unseen part.

Instead of going down I went up. It was easy. Apparently people here think if you get passed security on the first floor you must be OK. And after hours no one was on the second or third floor anyway so what was the sense in having a security guard stationed up there. And if you go all the way to the fourth or fifth floor, well golly gee whillikers, there's absolutely nothing up there.

Strangely enough there really wasn't except for a lot of empty cots. I realized they must have used the area to house refugees in until they pushed them out into the community. Briefly I wondered where they had put all the stuff that used to be stored up there but I didn't give it much thought time because it didn't matter. What I was after was the old fire exit.

And there it was at the end of the hallway on the fifth floor. The way Mom told me there used to be a really long, enclosed slide that kids were supposed to be able to use in case of fire. She said her mother, who had also attended the school, had told her about how the boys always looked forward to fire drills because it was as good as getting to go on a ride at the fair when it came through. The girls hated it because their skirts would fly up. The girls all went down first while female teachers waited at the bottom to help them. Then the boys came down next. They said it was to teach the boys the lesson of "women and children first." My mom said it was so the boys wouldn't see the girls' underwear. Guess boys have always been the same.

Only there wasn't a slide there anymore; but there was a sort of escape hatch. There was a metal ladder bolted to the side of the old brick building. You wouldn't notice it unless you purposefully went looking for it because when they renovated the school and added the two new wings they built a kind of chase around the ladder because it was "unsightly" but fire codes had still required it. The chase was quite large, or so it seemed to me. It was big enough for a large man to go down so it was big enough for me to go down with the backpack on.

I had one bad moment when I came down at the same time that two guards were passing.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"I thought I heard something."

"Probably that cat we keep running out of here."

"I don't think so. It sounded bigger than a cat."

"That cat is pretty damn big. Stop freaking out already. #$%. You've been listening to stories about that girl haven't you? There are no Infecteds here. They are all in the city, they are going to stay in the city until they all starve."

"Are you sure? I mean ..."

"Shut the #$% up. It was just the cat if it was anything at all. Now move it. I got a date and I'm not going to be late because we have to file some kind of report."

They started walking back the way they had come but continued to argue. I didn't want to make people argue, it was a waste of time. But they need to start thinking. Maybe the one guy was thinking. Maybe he'd think enough that he wouldn't get chomped. That was good enough for me. Those that refuse to think for whatever reason will wind up getting what they deserve though they won't feel that way.


	18. Chapter 18

Part Eighteen ****

Sticking to the increasingly dark shadows I made my way across town to where the warehouse district was. That is where Lee had told me they stored all of the personal items of the people whose homes they had taken over. He told me things had been stored by street and house number in crates hastily cobbled together from scraps at the lumberyard.

Lee had admitted that there was surprisingly little left after things like furniture, clothing, dishes, and that sort of stuff was redistributed to the homeless refugees who had crowded the town. All I was really hoping for was that our family pictures didn't get thrown away.

I crawled into the warehouse and sighed. I was definitely not going to find anything that night, it was too dark inside the warehouse. The only good thing that I noted was that the place was dirty and had an abandoned feel to it that meant no one really guarded the place on a regular basis. Hopefully that wouldn't change in the next day or two and I'd been able to find what I was looking for.

Just to be on the safe side I climbed up to the second level of the warehouse and from there to the top of the shelving on that floor. I was in the back, darkest corner. I heard a little rustling but it wound up being from all the accumulated dust and dirt resettling after I had stirred it up rather than mice or rats or bats. I was tired so after a few sips of water and a bite of one of those awful calorie bars I created a little nest and went to sleep.

I woke the next day when a sun beam poked me in the eye. Before I moved I took silent stock in my surroundings. The warehouse still felt empty. I didn't hear anything except for the wind as it blew against the metal roof of the warehouse. It was cold and I shivered hard enough to disturb the dust around me and I had to hold my nose for nearly half a minute to control the sneeze that wanted to escape.

I had meant to wake up at dawn but obviously hadn't. I climbed down from the shelf I had been on then carefully looked out the window on that floor. Nothing. The entire area looked abandoned. I quickly got down to the business that I had come for.

Looking around I noticed signs with words and numbers on them. I realized they corresponded to street names and house numbers. Going downstairs I looked around but couldn't find my street name. In frustration I went upstairs to have another bite of the calorie bar and then could have just kicked myself when I realized I'd been sleeping one shelving row over from where I needed to be.

Locating the approximate place the crate containing my family's personal belongings was one thing. Locating the crate itself was totally different. It took me three hours of hard searching to find the crate and then another hour to unearth from the stack it was buried in. Actually I didn't unearth it so much as create a tunnel back to it.

The crate was depressingly small. It might have made a coffin for me but only if my knees were bent. I used a screwdriver from my backpack and finally pried the metal staples out so that I could open the crate. Once I got it open I had to breathe deeply to keep myself from turning into a watering pot again. Once I started to dig through stuff to try and decide what to bring and what to leave behind I had to fight the urge to stop and look through the photo albums.

When I was little Toddie hadn't turned into a super jerk yet. One year for Christmas he digitized all the family photos. I remember helping him and it took days and days and days straight even using one of those portable flip scanners they'd come out with, the ones that scanned at five times the speed of the fastest flatbed scanners on the market at the time. Mom and Dad had been so surprised and grateful that they had continued the project. I grabbed the portable hard drives that the pictures and family movies were kept on. There was another copy in my parents' safety deposit box but who knows where that stuff is now.

Most of the digital photo frames that Mom had used were missing. There had been dozens of them and she had them playing all the time. I did manage to find a few hard copy photos in an old wooden box. The box also held the family Bible that had belonged to Dad's grandmother. I set that aside as well. Some stuff in the crate I didn't recognize which leads me to believe that after a while people just threw things where ever they felt like.

There was a box of Mom's costume jewelry but most of her expensive stuff was missing. Dad's gun and knife collections were missing. Mine and Toddie's baby books were in there. I didn't know whether to take them or not so set them aside. I found a lot of our old school awards and in the scheme of things they didn't matter so I ignored them. I found a box that was tightly taped up and knew they were the very special Christmas ornaments and the manger scene that Mom never let anyone handle but her. I put it on the keep pile. Then I found some stuff they'd obviously taken from my room. I hardly had any connection to any of it, it was like that girl was a completely foreign person from the me I am now. Then I saw it and nearly shrieked in glee.

I pulled out my oldest, rattiest purse that was a million years old and inside it were three glass cases. My eye prescription hadn't changed since I was a little girl. Doctor said it was odd but not unheard of. I opened the snap on one of the cases and slid one of my second pairs on. I could see without having to look around a bunch of scratches.

Beyond what I had taken out there wasn't much that I could justify trying to carry. It was like my life had been deconstructed and I was left with barely a connection to what it had once been. I decided to take the baby books. It was stupid but it had Mom and Dad's handwriting in it and Toddie's had our grandparents and a few other family members that I hadn't grown up knowing. I took the costume jewelry too just because I had a little room. Maybe I would regret it, maybe not; either way it didn't belong to whoever stole the other stuff.

I was exhausted again. Whatever had been in that knock out drug the Committee goons had used on me hadn't worn off completely so I decided to grab a couple of hours of sleep and then hit the road.


	19. Chapter 19

Part Nineteen ****

Escaping had to be the most boring thing I'd done up to that point. It shouldn't have been but I was grateful that it was. The warehouse district was on the north end of town which was the direction I wanted to go anyway. I knew where I was headed. We'd gone there every summer for as long as I could remember. The name was the same two words I had left the Sheriff as a clue.

Singing Waters.

I had written it in pencil on the dark part of his desk blotter. He would either see it or he wouldn't. If he did he would have some general idea of where I meant to go. But by the time he notices I hope I am a good ways down the road to where I'm going so he won't be tempted to try and stop me.

I've been on the road three days now with no sign of anyone following me. The only reason I've stopped long enough to write all of this down in my notebook is because of the rain. The rain and the puss brains. They are in the next big town, almost a city really just not a big city, north of where I came from. Bet their precious committee wasn't telling folks that the wall may have been keeping them temporarily safe to the south but that there looked to be a small horde forming behind them. When I realized that I almost turned around and went back to warn the Sheriff but then stopped.

Maybe I am a bad person but when you try and tell people the truth and they refuse to believe you then at some point you have to just kind of shake it off and move on. I was dead to them for a year. Maybe some of them shed a tear for me or maybe they were too busy or something. I'll have to let them go the same way. Maybe I'll get someplace safe enough for long enough that I can cry but for now I've decided to give it up. Kinda turning into a major waste of time.

This town is trashed almost as bad as the big city was. Weirdly it hasn't been salvaged as far as I can tell. There are quite a few puss brains but not so many that a decently organized group shouldn't have been able to work around them or put them out of their misery. A grocery store that I passed by had not been completely cleaned out and it was too big a temptation not to peek. Store was full of mice and things that eat mice but that's the only reason there wasn't more left on the shelves.

I watched the store for quite a while and realized that the puss brains considered it finger food central. They'd go in looking hungry and come out with a handful of mice like appetizers and whatever else they could sweep off the shelves. Yuck. I've seen them do worse but there was something about watching a still wiggling tail hanging out of the mouth of one of the puss brains that just turned my stomach and I lost my appetite. That didn't stop me from going in and taking cans off the shelves to add to my collection of food. I couldn't take a lot but I did mark the place on a map I've started in case I get so desperate I need to come back this far looking for food. I don't want to start acting like a puss brain and get so hungry I'll eat leather furniture and cotton undies.

There aren't that many stores around Singing Waters. There are a few but they're more like tourist stops and camping and fishing supply places. I know some of them shut down in the winter too. Singing Waters is a campground set way back off the main highway. I remember one year we went there for Christmas and there was so much snow on the ground that we had to leave the car at the bottom of the hill and hike up to the registration office because not even the snow chains were enough to stop us sliding.

Now that I am really on my way my one big worry is that someone is going to have beaten me to my chosen hideaway. I don't know what I'm going to do if someone has taken over the campground. If it is one person I'll have to see if they are crazy or not ... or one of those weirdos. If it is a group I'll have to see if they'd let me work for a place to stay. I won't be a slave but I don't have to be top dog. I just want a place to stay for the winter or longer.


	20. Chapter 20

Part Twenty ****

When I was little we learned a song in Sunday School. It started out "Oh be careful little ears what you hear" and went on and on about stuff. The verse that is stuck in my mind right now is about being careful what you see. Once you see something you can never wash it out of your mind no matter how much bleach you use. I have enough of that rolling around my brain cells, I didn't need more.

After the rain stopped I skated for two days and then one of the wheels broke on the inlines and I took a dive onto the blacktop. Even though I was wearing pads and a helmet I got pretty wrecked up. When I could make myself get up and start walking again I knew I wouldn't get much further so got off the highway and turned into a little town where we used to stop to get gas and old-fashioned thick cut baloney sandwiches. We'd also get ice cream if it was hot and my favorite that I never found anyplace else was lemon drop flavored milkshake. For some reason I just had to see the place again.

Walking into town I noticed right off huge signs that directed people to an "evacuation point." It might explain how come I haven't been seeing people, not even salvagers. I've seen some triage type set ups off the highway but nothing that looks like people - uninfected people - have been in the area any time recently.

I limped my way to the store and sat down on the bench outside. It seemed somehow sacrilegious to just bust a window to get in but it is probably what I would have done if I hadn't looked up and seen the little boy. Talk about a freak out. I was doing a total spazz.

What you have to understand is that puss brains are not zombies. I know I've said it but most people don't really understand the difference. Zombies are the reanimated dead. Puss brains are not dead. They're people infected by a totally gross virus that speeds up their metabolism, makes them angry, and as a consequence of both, makes them very, very hungry all the time. Doc used to talk about how the metabolization rate on a puss brain was off the chart. I always wondered how Doc knew all of the stuff he did but sometimes I looked in his eyes and realized that I might not really want to know after all. The guy had a hole ripped in his soul that was letting his humanity leak out.

So yeah, get bit by a puss brain and you're going to turn into a puss brain ... you're infected. They don't bite to infect, they bite 'cause they're freakin' hungry and can't seem to help themselves. I've seen a puss brain eat another puss brain but it isn't pretty. And for some reason puss brains will gang up on another of their kind that starts feeding like that. They'll tear them apart but not eat them. Doc said it was one of those mysteries that had yet to be tested to find out why. Puss brains had a real thing against cannibalism though it makes no sense since they ate uninfected people every chance they got.

To make the explanation of why I spazzed out even longer it's that when a puss brain gets hungry they are a sloppy eater and not real careful with their "food." A lot of people who are chomped by a puss brain don't survive to turn into a puss brain unless the infection kicks in and starts healing them up fast enough. If you have more than one puss brain chomping on you the damage is likely to be so bad you don't survive. Or, if you are small or young or something along those lines. The damage is just too bad. And that's why you hardly ever see kid type puss brains. Teenagers yes but kids and baby puss brains no ... hardly ever. And when you do they are usually really, really bad. I don't know why, they just are.

So seeing that little boy was truly spazz-worthy. The problem was the little boy wasn't alone. In my panic I rolled off the bench just in time to avoid getting shot though that isn't why I hit the ground. "AAAAaaack! Jerk! Your aim is off! Hit the puss brain kid! Not me!" I didn't know who I was screaming at, it just sort of came out. All I know is that puss brains don't use guns.

I was busy scrambling, trying to get my stuff together, keep an eye on the kid, and avoid the nearsighted shooter. I was almost to the corner of the building when the kid stuck a finger in his mouth. I took two steps then stopped and looked back. Puss brains don't suck their thumbs. I've seen them gnaw a finger off but never suck their thumb. I was trying to decide what to do when I turned around to find someone ready to shove the barrel of a rifle up my left nostril. It was so close I had to be cross-eyed looking at the end of it.

Then I looked up and there was a guy who looked about Lee's age and behind him were another girl, her about my age or maybe a little younger, it was hard to tell. "Don't move."

"Nooooo kidding," I muttered.

I wobbled and then squinched my eyes shut ready to get shot.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Huh?"

"Have you been bit?"

"No. Why?"

"What daya mean why? You're covered in blood."

"I'm not covered in it," I told him looking down at myself briefly. "I blew a tire on my skates and took a header. I'm just a little scraped up that's all."

"Yeah right," the girl snapped. "Don't listen to her."

"Shuttup Sammy. She's the first person we've seen since Uncle Simon left and ..."

"Don't tell me to shut up!"

I sighed. "Look I don't wanna get shot but I either sit down or fall down. Not to mention I gotta sneeze and when I do I'm gonna get boogers all in your rifle barrel."

I heard snickering behind me. I looked over just in time to see a little finger poke one of the places I'd shredded my jeans. "You gotta boo boo."

"Ouch!" And then finished falling down. "Brilliant DeeDee," I muttered angrily. "Good way to look like a complete idiot."

The girl Sammy added, "You got that right."

I sighed. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time." I turned my eyes up to the guy with the gun and he didn't look amused or anything else. In fact his eyes were getting a little scary so I started talking fast in his direction. "I'm no puss brain. I'm really serious about wrecking on my skates. You can even see here," I said pointing to the skate. "One of the wheels cracked and broke. I've got replacements. I just needed to get someplace off the road so I could clean up and do it. My folks and I used to come here for lemon drop milkshakes on our summer vacations. That's all. If it is your place I'll leave. Just tell me if I'm going to violate someone else's turf or whatever. I'm kinda tired and banged my head."

I'm on the ground where I'd fallen and looking up when suddenly the little kid with no boundaries body slams me and knocks the wind out of me in a great big woof. When I can breathe again I'm trying to move out from under the little crazy body.

"Geez, what is this kid's problem? Do I look like a trampoline?!" I scrambled up and backwards when the little boy looked all set to repeat himself.

The guy with the gun sighed and said, "Knock it off John-John." When the kid gave him a smirk and acted like he was going to do it anyway the guy reached out real quick, grabbed the boy's arm, and then kinda tossed him in the direction of the girl Sammy. "I told you to knock it off." He looked at the girl and said, "Get your brother under control or I'll lock him in the bedroom again."

Sammy grabbed the little boy and held him to her even though it was pretty obvious he didn't want to be held. I got a look from her that said it was all my fault but I didn't pay too much attention to it because the guy was back to pointing the gun at me again.

"Where are you from?"

"Like where was I born or where did I come from just now?"

The guy said irritably, "Keep playing stupid and see how that works for you."

"I'm not playing. I mean I'm not stupid. I just mean there are two pieces to the answer and I'm not sure which one your want."

"Try both Einstein."

This guy was for real. He wasn't naturally bad but something about him told me he was ready to be bad if he had to. He was like a guard dog. I gave him the name of the town I'd been born but tried to give him a short explanation about the past year.

"Stop. Are you saying you come from St. Louis?"

"Sorta kinda. I told you ..."

"Yeah. Say I believe you but you're saying that you've been in the city for months and just now escaped."

"Uh ..." I said looking at him and trying to find the trap. "Yeah."

"Are you infected?"

"No. And ... look if I have to Sammy can look me over for bites but I'm not letting you anywhere near me."

The guy looked at me hard but something in his eyes had also changed. It was something about saying I was from the city. "You let Sammy look and if you're clean ... if you're clean I ... if you're clean you can fill your water bottle before going on your way."

I thought that was fair all things considered. I had stepped into their turf uninvited after all.


	21. Chapter 21

Part Twenty-One ****

The girl Sammy told the guy, "She's clean." Her tone though said she wasn't happy about it.

"Geez, you really want this guy to have someone to put out of their misery don't you?" I wasn't feeling too charitable towards Sammy. She'd gotten pretty personal space invasive checking to make sure I wasn't infected. It was like she enjoyed trying to humiliate me which was really creepy since she was a girl and close to my age.

The guy sighed. "I don't need another snarky girl so knock it off."

I looked at him and then at the gun and then back at him. I wanted to say something but he had the gun so I kept my mouth shut. "I don't need your water. I'm outta here. Just tell me if I'm going to run into anyone else's turf going north."

The guy - I still didn't know his name - shook his head. "It really is getting too dark to travel. You can stay with us."

Sammy shrieked, "Oh no she can't!"

The guy was snake fast and grabbed her and shook her pretty hard one handed. "Will ... you ... knock ... it ... off. We need information. She comes from the city."

Sammy spit, "You came from the city and said no one else would be coming from that direction."

I asked carefully, "You were ... you escaped from the city? Six months ago? How? The ... the bridges ..."

"Not St. Louis, I came out of Springfield."

Slowly I said, "I came through there. Springfield is still pretty infested. Where did all the people go? They left a lot of good stuff behind."

The guy relaxed but he still had the gun so I didn't relax. He didn't seem to notice ... or maybe it was that he didn't seem to care. "A lot of them just got infected."

Risking it I said, "Uh uh, something is off. The city had a lot of puss brains too but there was still people and the food got scarce fast which made people do crazy stuff like risk the bridges even though they got shot trying to cross. Springfield still had food but no people."

He looked at me and then glanced at Sammy who was starting to look interested. "Let's go grab something to eat," he said.

Uh huh. There was a story and he didn't want Sammy to know what it was. I wasn't too sure I wanted to be part of whatever their damage was but the guy didn't give me any choice; he shooed me along with the rifle.

We went around back of the store and then into it. The guy said, "This was my uncle's place. He went off about three months ago. He said he was going to get help. We haven't heard from him since."

I shrugged. "I haven't seen anyone running loose or claiming to have kids they were trying to get back to if that's what you were wondering."

He shook his head morosely. "He's dead."

Sammy hissed, "You don't know that."

I looked at the guy and he knew alright. And I think he knew it literally as in he knew something the girl did not. As my English teacher would have said, "The plot thickened."

I looked at Sammy and said, "I'll give him 99.9% of being right. Lone people don't last long."

She sneered. "Jace did. You say you did."

So the guy's name was Jace. "I don't know Jace's story but you heard part of mine. Up until a couple of weeks ago, give or take a few days, I was with a group of people. And even hitting the town where I grew up there was a whole thriving community of people. I'm not alone by choice - well except for the ..."

Jace asked suspiciously, "For the what?"

I sighed. "Long story. Bottom line is the people that are kinda in charge of that town either didn't - or didn't want to which amounts to the same thing - believe me about coming from the city. They don't want to believe the puss brains are going to figure out a way out of there and run amok like they did in the beginning. They were looking to shut me up and I didn't want the few friends I had there to get hurt because of it. So traveling alone is a choice I made ... it just wasn't my first choice. Get it?"

Jace nodded slowly. "Yeah. OK. I'll buy that. You look like the kind of girl that would do something that stupid."

"Hey!" I said while Sammy and her little brother snickered at my expense.

Jace said, "You're a girl. You're a little girl ..."

"I'm fifteen." I may be "little" but that didn't mean I was young. I really wish people would understand the difference.

The guy shrugged. "You're what Uncle Simon called tea cup sized. Puny and little. It might have worked to draw all the guys before ..."

"OK. Ew. You can stop that right there. Even if I had been inclined to do the gross, my dad was a cop and would have blistered my backside and that after he had decapitated anyone dumb enough to risk doing it with me."

"You're dad was a cop? What happened to him?" Jace asked.

"What do you think happened? Now who is being stupid?"

Sammy was on me with her claws and the only thing that saved me was Jace was just a little faster than her. He all but threw her against the wall. "What is your problem?!" he yelled.

"She insulted you."

He shook his head. "Will you stop acting like a psycho off your meds?! Go take John-John upstairs and get him down for a nap or something. He's starting to act weird again."

Sammy looked like she was about to bawl and I was getting even more creepy vibes. After she went up the stairs I looked at Jace. "This better not be about ... about ..."

"Relax. It's all over you that some guy has been at you."

"That is none of your freaking business."

"No it's not so don't waste my time trying to use it to make me feel sorry for you. I've got enough on my plate taking care of those two. All I'm saying is that that's not what I'm after. Come into the front of the store so I can shut the door or Sammy will be nosey."

I hunched my shoulders to resettle the pack that I still wore and allowed him to mush me along to where he wanted to go. "Did you really live in St. Louis for a whole year?"


	22. Chapter 22

Part Twenty-Two ****

"Don't call me a liar Jace."

"I'm not. I'm just asking."

I didn't see the difference but let it go since Lee could sometimes be that kind of guy stupid too. "Yeah, everything I've told you up to this point has been the truth."

"But there are things you've left out."

I shrugged. "Of course. Just like you left out how you know that your uncle is really dead."

He looked at me sharply then looked quickly towards the door at the back of the store. "Yeah. But don't you dare say anything to Sammy. Uncle Simon was Sammy's step dad."

"John-John's too?"

"No, a his, hers, and theirs."

It took me a sec to understand he meant a blended family. "OK. So you understand that I've got my business that you don't need or want to know about. You respect mine, I'll respect yours."

"Fine. But ... look ... you really can't say jack to Sammy about it or ... or ..."

"She'll go crazy?"

He sighed. "I think she's already crazy. Her mom could be bat shit ..."

"Hey!"

He made a face but then said, "Her mom could be crazy too. Bipolar, but she was fine so long as she stayed on her meds, and that's the way that Sammy is starting to act."

"Her little brother too?"

"No, John-John is ADHD. Basically he just does things off the wall to see what happens when he does. And he hardly sleeps and won't stay still. He's just a handful but basically harmless."

"Yeah right. Whatever you say."

"Don't," he said warningly.

"Look, they're your family. That's cool. But that little kid ... he just poked my skinned up knee like he was digging for gold or something, like he wanted to see what I would do because he knew it would hurt me. That's really, really bent. And Sammy? I am not even going to tell you how much she seemed to enjoy looking to see if I had any bite marks."

I shuddered in remembrance of the icky feeling she'd given me and Jace looked troubled. "They haven't been around other people for a while. They've just forgotten how to act. Kinda gone feral maybe."

I shrugged but wanted to say keep telling yourself that. Given the people that I had had to deal with in the city I knew crazy when I saw it and it was written in day glo spray paint all over Sammy and John-John even then.

Out of left field he asked me, "What's your plans?"

I looked at Jace and giving him the face that the question deserved. "And why should I tell you?"

"Like you said, being alone isn't any good. You gotta sleep sometime."

"I'm doing alright."

"I could have shot you."

"And sometimes people die. It was my choice to sit on that bench. Sometimes even little choices like that get you dead ... or infected ... and having people around doesn't stop it."

He quickly came back with what I thought was a random question. "Why did you jump like that when you saw John-John for the first time?"

"Have you ever seen little puss brains?"

He sighed. "Not many ... but ... but a few."

"Yeah, so wanna pick another question?" I asked him since if he'd seen other little puss brains the answer was obvious.

He sighed again and I was getting kind of tired of hearing it. "OK, how about this one. Why don't you stay here? At least for a while?"

"Are you as crazy as they are?! You don't know me. I don't know you. And Sammy ... geez ... I don't have a death wish you know."

"I'll take care of Sammy. I'll tell her it is because there will be someone else to help take care of John-John."

I shook my head. "No. Uh uh. I've done my fair share of babysitting but ..."

"I didn't say it would be the real reason."

I looked at him suspiciously. He scowled. "And not because of that either. If I wanted it Sammy has been all but tying me down trying to force me for the last month."

Then I saw him shudder and realized something. There might be more guys out there that didn't like weirdness than I'd been thinking there might be. "You don't want me to stay for Sammy," I said carefully. "Or John-John. You want ... want ... I don't know ... like a ... a ... buffer. Between Sammy and you."

Slowly he admitted, "Something like that." Looking at the door one more time he added quietly, "If there were more people she might ... might stop."

I felt sorry for him all of a sudden. "Once people go weird they usually keep going that direction. At least that is what I saw in the city."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I just can't take this anymore. And the weather is about to change."

"How do you know?"

"Uncle Simon's barometer. He didn't trust the weathermen," he grinned sadly. "He had his own homemade weather station and was pretty good at it. He taught me to use it when I would come here to spend the summer with my grandparents. They owned this place before Uncle Simon took over."

"You can't make me stay."

He looked like he wanted to deny it but then he shoulders slumped and he finally put the rifle all the way down. "No. I can't. But ... I'm asking you to stay ... for a ... just a day or two ... something ... I feel like ... I feel like they are driving me ..."

At that moment there was a deep rumble of thunder and I ran up to the front of the store and looked out the window. "What they heck?! Where did those clouds come from?!"

And when it picked that moment to start raining huge dry weather drops Jace said, "I told you a change in the weather was coming."


	23. Chapter 23

Part Twenty-Three ****

Sammy was still staring morosely into her empty bowl and said for the umpteenth time, "You cook good."

I felt like grinding my teeth. She acted like it was something to cry about. John-John and Jace however were acting like Christmas had come early. I looked at Sammy and said, "It's no big deal. I'll ... I'll show you if you want." Trying to find common ground I added, "You don't have to but it'd be better than giving those two any more ammunition. I swear, they are such guys."

She looked at them and then all but spit at me. "I don't want you for a friend."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Tell me something that isn't obvious. I just have this thing about guys acting all ... guy-ish. Even when they are little guys. Girls can't help we are born girls. Guys don't need to rub it in while we are still learning how to be girls. They sure as heck don't like it when we laugh at them for being stupid guys."

"You're weird."

"Not weird ... I'm ... I'm eccentric ... unique." To me the word weird was reserved for stuff that was really weird and shouldn't be used for anything else. I wasn't about to explain why to her though.

"And bizarre. Really, really bizarre."

I'm surprised she didn't use the word crazy but I guess she might have been as sensative to crazy as I was to weird.

I shrugged since my point had been made. "Fine. Whatever. So do you want to know how to make this or not?"

"Or not. John-John and I have things to do."

Jace growled, "You aren't going out in this weather Sammy so forget whatever scheme you've got going."

Sammy looked mutinous. "You don't boss me Jace."

"Yeah. I do. And I'll lock both of you up if I catch you trying to go out in the middle of the night again. You know I will."

Sammy's look turned cautious but rather than rebell more she grabbed John-John by the arm and practically dragged him up stairs ignoring his wails and complaints all the way. The sound stopped at soon as I heard a door slam.

I shook my head and muttered to myself, "This is no going to end well."

"Wish I could deny it," Jace muttered back like I'd been talking to him.

He surprised me by helping to clean up. "Relax. Usually I am the one doing the cooking and cleaning. Sammy nearly poisoned me the few times she tried to cook ... and one of them ... literally you know? I think she was trying to make it so I'd let her do ... the stuff she wants. I was in a cloud for a while until she went a little overboard with whatever she was using and I puked for 48 hours and it pretty much cleared my system. That was right after ... Uncle Simon ..."

"Died?"

He looked at me and then leaned over to make sure that Sammy was still upstairs with her brother. "He didn't leave to go look for other people. He left because he got infected. I don't know how it happened because all of the infecteds around here have been euthanized. I figured out what was wrong when I caught up with him. He'd left a note and it didn't make much sense. He'd been acting strange and I had already started to worry about him. He said it was just a little scratch but that he could feel infection crawling around his head and that he was leaving so that he couldn't hurt us. He asked me to look after Sammy and John-John. That I had to watch them really carefully and to not let them wander any place anymore like they had been, that it wasn't good for them."

I nodded realizing what must have happened. "The smaller the dose of infection you get, the longer the change takes. I've seen it take days but that is a really awful way to go. Sometimes you don't even realize someone is infected until it is too late." I stopped for a moment to weigh my words then asked, "Have you seen any puss brains lately?"

"No. I took ... I ...," he stopped like it hurt to tell me. It didn't take an Einstein to know why. "I fixed Uncle Simon. Before that I saw a few when I went hunting but none here in the village. Uncle Simon had this hypothesis that the infecteds can sense if there are people around and that they avoid places that don't have people in them."

I shook my head not really agreeing. "Not so much from what I've seen. The puss brains go where they can get stuff to eat. Maybe there is nothing around here worth eating ... or not enough to draw their attention. But they'll eat almost anything that used to be living. I've seen them eat leather off an office chair."

He made a face then nodded. "Maybe Uncle Simon didn't know everything he thought he did. I saw Infecteds eat some weird stuff in Springfield before I left. As for this place, every little bit of food that is left from the village is in this store. We went through all the houses and stuff after Uncle Simon ... left ... and brought everything back here and organized it. There might be enough to make it through to spring if I can get some hunting done. I just haven't been able to because ... well, you see how they are," he said referring to Sammy and her brother.

"Yeah," I admitted carefully.

"If you'll stay I'll be able to hunt and bring in more meat and it will make the food we have go a lot farther."

Thinking it over cautiously since it had been one of my concerns about going to Singing Waters on my own I asked, "You know how to do that? Hunt and then do what you gotta do to make it stay good to eat?"

He nodded. "Yeah. My parents are ... were ... divorced. My dad was Uncle Simon's brother and kinda ... well ... most folks would have thought him strange. He wasn't ... he just liked to live life on his own terms. But he still had to have money to do it so he was a college professor. History. He was big into re-enacting and demonstrations of pioneering skills and stuff like that. His student's loved him according to what I heard from people. He'd teach the fall and spring semesters and then we'd come here during the summer and Dad would ... would do the things he'd like to do without having to worry about hauling me around with him."

"Your mom?"

"Not in the picture. Not really, not for a while anyway. When I was little I had the mandatory holidays with her like Thanksgiving and every other Christmas but she remarried this guy that couldn't stand my guts because I reminded him of my dad for some reason. I don't even look like him ... I look like Mom. And they started a new family plus the guy had a couple of sons from his first marriage that he had custody of that I was constantly fighting with. Anyway, right before I turned sixteen we all just agreed to stop playing games and totally went our separate ways. Lots less stress for everyone involved."

He sounded like that had all happened a long time ago so I asked him, "How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

Surprised at his answer I squeeked, "Seriously?!"

He snorted. "Seriously."

I muttered, "You're older than Lee."

"Who's Lee?"

"A friend. His dad was the sheriff and my dad was a deputy." We got off track sharing mutual stories from our pasts then I asked, "If you had this place to come to why didn't you leave Springfield sooner?"

"My dad and some other people had taken a stand at the community college. It was a sweet set up. Or at least I thought so at the time. There was a working radio and people who were growing gardens ... it was a real viable operation. Then someone got stupid and brought in some spoiled food that our cooks didn't catch. Three quarters of our group went down and security got lax and ..."

"And that's all it takes."

He nodded sadly. "Yeah. Food poisoning got Dad before an infected could."

"It was a drunk that took my dad. That first morning of Z-Day. Only I didn't know that until the sheriff told me. I still don't know what happened to Mom but ... but there are some things you just don't think about if you can help it."

"Yeah," Jace agreed softly.

We sat there quietly and I tried to not nod off though with the nice fire in the wood stove and a full stomach it was a losing battle. Jace said, "I better go check on them." Them being Sammy and John-John.

I was rubbing my eyes, trying to wake up, when I heard a door crash. "Dammit! Dammit dammit dammit!"

I jumped up and was looking around for the threat when Jace came tearing into the room. "Those two little sh ... dammit! They are out in this crap!"

Fully awake again I asked, "You mean they've run away? In this weather?"

A rattle of thunder was my answer until Jace said, "Not run away. They just take off a couple of times a week and wander around for a couple of hours but they always come back. They haven't been able to get away for about two weeks now because I've practically kept them tied to me. They keep trying to go back over to their old house ... Sammy's old house I mean before she came to live here at the store with Uncle Simon. I don't know what the deal is. I told her next time I caught them anywhere near the place I would burn it down. She was scared enough that she ... or at least I didn't think she was ... Dammit! I really will burn it down this time!"

I was at a loss as to what to do but then Jace said, "I ... dammit."

"You've already said that."

"Yeah. I know. Look, I need some help. It is going to take everything I have to deal with Sammy and not hurt her until she calms down. I need some help with John-John."

My automatic response was, "No way."

He turned to me and grabbed me by the shoulders and I didn't want to see how desparate he was but I didn't have a choice. "You're dad was a cop right? You understand that sometimes you gotta do things you might not want to so that everyone can be safe. Sammy and John-John ... they aren't ... aren't responsible enough to take care of themselves, to make good choices. I can't just ... can't just walk away. But I can't do it alone anymore."

He was on the edge of cracking. Unfortunately I made the mistake of looking at his side of things before I could stop myself and then folded. I wish I hadn't. I really, really wish I hadn't. I swear I am such a girl. I've really got to get over that.

"Take your hands off of me," I told him. "You do that and I'll help. You try and make me and Sammy isn't the only one who is going to fight."

He turned loose of me like I was a hot skillet. The relief on his face made me sick to my stomach. I knew that I'd need to get away fast after I was done helping him. The whole situation was too messed up for me to deal with. If I had only known.


	24. Chapter 24

Part Twenty-Four ****

I left my pack behind the store register area. I didn't leave my bat or break in tools however.

Jace glanced at me and said, "You won't need those."

I shook my head. "Don't tell me what I'll need and what I won't."

"Fine. Just don't scare or hurt the kids with that stuff." I rolled my eyes, borrowed a baseball cap from the rack of tourist junk near some t-shirts with the village's name on them, and then followed him into the dark and very wet night. I had a feeling that scaring Sammy and her brother wasn't going to be the problem; hurting them either. I was pretty sure I needed to be more worried about being on that end of the stick.

As soon as we got off the porch the rain started running down the back of my neck making me shiver. I turned my coat collar up but that didn't help much because it kept rolling back down. Eventually I got used to the sudden temperature drop as I did my best to keep up with Jace who seemed to fail to comprehend that his legs were about a foot longer than mine and therfore could cover a lot more ground in a single step.

I finally wound up chucking a wet branch at him and he turned around sharply. "Slow down or I'm turning back," I sniped at him.

Turns out he really hadn't thought about it and surprised me by saying, "Sorry." Then he looked at me for what seemed like the first time. "Are you sure you're fifteen? You're awfully short."

Ready to chuck another branch at him I spit out, "Height challenged. And none of your business."

He bent over and said, "Short. And ... and not a problem. I was just asking."

I blinked. "Oh. Well, I was ... was born early. The docs said it stunted my growth."

"Didn't stunt your mouth any," Jace said, standing back up.

"You aren't the first one to make that observation Sherlock. So how much further do I have to jog?"

He turned and looked back down the street in the direction he'd been leading us. "Not too much farther. But the house sits back a ways. They won't hear us coming through this rain but just in case I'll take us around the back way. If you'll stand by the back door I'll try and flush them through the front."

Thirty minutes later we were standing in the bushes beside a little bungalow house. It had one story and a detached garage that was almost bigger than it was. The place was even smaller than my house had been so I was guessing it was only a one or two bedroom place. Jace leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Go ahead and go up on the porch. I'm going to work my way around the front. When they run out just stop them ... don't hurt them." The warning was well taken and we did as planned.

But when I got up on the porch I could sense that no one was home. But something about the detached garage was giving me the heebies. Sherry taught me to listen to my instincts in the city. I left the porch and inched my way over to the other structure. It had shutters on the outside covering the windows but they were loose. Everytime they flapped in the wind I noticed a little bit of light showing. I grabbed one of the shutters and opened it but left the other ones to keep up the banging so whoever was inside wouldn't notice.

I used my finger and cleaned off small square in one of the glass panes and froze when what I saw started making sense. Ha! Making sense, that's a good one.

Sammy was fussing quietly at John-John who was holding his hand, in obvious pain. "How many times have I told you not to do that? Now look at what you did!"

"Gotta owie Sammy. Baby bit me."

"Duh. Shut up. I gotta figure this out. You can stay here with Momma and Baby. I'll have to tell Jace something but maybe now we won't have to hide anymore 'cause he'll have to understand."

I was backing away from the building when something big came up behind me. Before I could scream or fight there was a hand over my mouth and I was locked tight by a strong arm. I was still gonna fight but then I heard "shhhhh" in my ear.

I was still considering fighting when I felt Jace go rigid in shock. If he hadn't been holding onto me I'm pretty sure his knees would have give out. As it was I had to elbow him because he was cutting my air off. He stumbled back a couple of feet then fetched up against a tree. The look on his face was pure horror. I knew then that I'd really seen what I had thought I had seen.

Jace started shaking but then stiffened when Sammy gave a gasp of pain. "Why did you do that you stupid, stupid Baby?!"

We both looked back into the window and Sammy was hoping around holding her calf which even in the dark we could tell was bloody. Something skittered out of the dark and she kicked out at it sending it into a pile of blankets in the corner where something ... someone ... was tied.

"Momma, I told you last time you had to make Baby behave. Now he is in sooooo much trouble."

I felt my dinner wanting to exit at both ends. Jace's shaking had stopped and he brushed past me with real purpose. Fool me followed him. There was just something so wrong about what was happening that it had to be stopped.

Jace yanked open the wooden garage door and started shooting as soon as it was out of his way. The chained up skeletal puss brain was dead in two shots, one brain and the other blew her chest open. Jace then started shooting at something that had run into the other corner that I couldn't bring myself to look at. I turned just in time to see Sammy's face change. She must have gotten a pretty good dose in her bite because she went to the dark side just about as fast as I've ever seen anyone turn.

Her trajectory made it easy and one swing was all it took to crack her skull. She was way too new to heal fast enough to survive. I kept John-John at bay until Jace secured him with some bike chains that had been hanging from the wall beside a couple of old bikes.

The little boy had indeed been bitten and Jace looked like he wan't to collapse in on himself. I didn't blame him, I was going there myself. Then John-John piped in his little sing song voice, "You are in soooo much trouble. Wait until Daddy comes home. He's gonna whup you good."

"He's not coming home," I choked out.

"Oh yes he is. Sammy says so. People said Mommy wasn't coming home but she did. We took care of her ... and Baby too when he came. We fed them and everything. You're just mean. Daddy is going to whup you too."

Jace was starting to rock and I didn't know what to do. The change was starting to show in John-John's face ... it kept twitching and stuff like it does when the infection moves from the blood to the brain. I was raising my bat to put the poor kid out of his misery when a hole appeared in his forehead and he slumped dead in his chains.

I turned to look at Jace who was there on his knees with the rifle still aimed. Then his hands must have gone numb and I caught it before it hit the ground. Looking into his eyes I realized no one was home in Jace-land. I guess I stood there fifteen minutes waiting for something. I don't know what but if there had been other puss brains in the area I would have been chomped and not cared a single bit.

Then I slung the rifle over one shoulder and slung Jace's arm over the other shoulder. I stood up and had to drag Jace up with me. Slowly he started putting one foot in front of the other and was aware enough that he kept me from making a wrong turn trying to get back to the store. We got in and he just sort of puddled in front of the stove. I was shivering and went looking for towels or something to dry off with. Found what I needed in a closet under the stairs. I came back carrying a load and Jace was feeding wood into the stove.

He looked at me but neither one of us could stay a word. He took the towel I handed him but it was like he forgot how to use it. I told myself that if Lee found himself in the same situation that I prayed someone would help him so I just did what had to be done. I got Jace out of his wet clothes and wrapped in a bed spread. Then I brought a pillow out of the same closet and made a place for him to lay his head. He looked at me just once and then let me push him over.

I don't know how long he laid there with his eyes open but it was for a long time. I went and changed in another room but was shivering really hard before I could get back in front of the heat from the stove. I made sure all the doors were locked and then just sat until I took out this notebook and stated to write. And now it is all out on paper but I'm not feeling any better about it. I don't think I ever will.

I'm going to lay down too now that Jace's eyes have closed. I ... I checked to make sure that he hadn't been bitten when I took off his wet clothes. I don't think he noticed. I don't think he even cared. I tried not to notice more than I had to. It isn't like it was with Cochran who wanted to show off what he had. Jace was just a lump and it is wrong to go all googly eyed over someone when they aren't trying to make you that way. I wouldn't want anyone doing that to me.

I don't know what to do. But I'm going to have to figure it out. In the morning. After I get some sleep. After the nightmares come and go. I just hope these don't have sound and color like some of the other ones do. I don't ever want to hear her scream or his little boy voice saying such crazy things ever, ever again.


	25. Chapter 25

Part Twenty-Five ****

I've heard people say that morning light makes things better. Bull poopy. There are things that happen that nothing is ever going to make better.

Jace was up and gone when I woke up and I could have kicked myself. I wasn't sure what to expect but suicide and other nasty things went through my mind based on what had happened to some of our group members in the city. I scrambled up and then tripped over the blanket I had wrapped myself in the night before and went down to my knees. I tried to untangle my feet and then a voice said, "You ... you ok?"

I jerked my head up and Jace stood there in the door way. He put the rifle he had obviously been carrying down against the wall and then offered me a hand.

"Yeah," I answered carefully. "Are you?"

He thought about it a moment then said, "No. But ... but I'm not feeling like I was."

"Oh. Uh ... good."

He looked around rather than at me and then mumbled, "Thanks."

I mumbled, "You're welcome."

We couldn't seem to find anything else to say then Jace said, "It is too wet. I couldn't get the building started."

"Started? Oh ... oh you mean ... hmmm ... well, it might not be the best thing. Woods and stuff. Forest fire. Could attract more ... er ... puss ... er ... infecteds. Might spread and burn your village down too."

He grunted an acknowledgement. "Not my village. Not anymore. Burn the whole place down for all I care."

"Might not be the smartest thing to do until you can find some place else to live and a plan to get there."

"Got one. Owe you. I'll ... I'll teach you the stuff Dad taught me. Then we'll be even."

That was a little strange. "You don't owe me."

"Yeah. Yeah I do. Been thinking about it."

"Kinda soon to be thinking about that kind of stuff. You just ... I mean the ... the shock and all of that ... last night ..."

He winced and tried to not let me see it. "Yeah. But that's why I owe you. Last night ... and then it was you who ... and then here ... and ..."

I looked at him and his shoulders were all hunched like he hurt. And he had reason to. I tried to think about how Mom might handle things. She was always better at handling Toddie than Dad had been and Jace was about that age. "Jace. Just let it rest for a bit. You've got this store and all of this other stuff. You aren't going to want to leave it. You said yourself you have enough food for the winter. You can ..."

"I've got a truck."

His statement caught me off guard. "Huh?"

"I said I've got a truck that works. And it has a camper top too. It's how I got here from Springfield. Uncle Simon was going to take it to run off but halfway out of the village I guess he started to forget how to drive. That's why I didn't let ... let ... Sammy know about it still being around. I've given it some thought. I ... I think Uncle Simon might have known about ... about what we found in the garage. That that is how he got infected. I can't imagine Sammy, as scatterbrained as she is ... was ... setting the place up like it is. I can't believe she would have been so secretive without giving herself away in the beginning." He bent over like he was going to be sick. "Oh God ..."

Jace had started shaking again. I stood up and shivered in the cold store but at least I wasn't in jammies. I pulled him over and made him sit down; then lit the fire and got it going again.

After watching me he asked, "You know how to use a wood stove?"

I nodded to him and explained, "It was the only heat we had in our house. Oil and gas were too expensive and our house was little so the fireplaces and stoves could make it almost too warm sometimes."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

I looked around the store shelves and grabbed the ingredients for Russian Tea. I made it hot and sweet and he sipped on it. He gagged for a minute like his stomach didn't ever want anything in it again but then the warmth and the sweet took the edge off the shock he was feeling.

I tried to drape the bedspread around him again but he shrugged it off. "This is good. I'm ... I'm fine now. Get too warm and I'll get sleepy. Need to think and plan."

I let him go after that, realizing he was an action person. You try and stop an action person and they only get more depressed or out of sorts.

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure." He shook his head and I thought for a minute that he'd changed his mind but then he said, "I know that it has just been one bit of crazy after another since you got here but really ... I'm not bad. I won't ... give you the kind of problems you've had with other guys. I'm ... I had a girl ... we were engaged. I had to ..." He shook his head. "I'm just not looking for that. Clarey and I ... we were good together. We understood each other. She was sweet, gentle. That made it both harder and easier. But she ... she got bit on the way here ... then ... then had to ... die." He shook his head again and I realized there was a lot more to his grieving - and his story - than he'd let on. "But I won't let the same thing happen to you. Clarey ... Clarey was ... was soft. You don't strike me as that type."

Quietly I said, "Used to be. I only survived ..." I couldn't explain it in only a handful of words. "Geez ... I just got lucky. The guy who ran the group I was in, and the woman who had found me in the beginning and taken me in, were both hard people ... they just made me get ... get not as soft as I was I guess. I was still bottom of the pile though, the weakest link. They left me you know. At least you can say you didn't leave your people ... Clarey or Sammy or John-John or even your Uncle Simon. Sometimes people leave us but at least you can say you never left them."

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye and said, "Maybe. Doesn't make it feel any better."

As matter of factly as I could manage I told him, "Nope. Probably never will. But at least you can say you did the best you could and didn't run away even at their end. I saw a lot of people leave without caring enough to put folks out of their misery. That's just wrong. You didn't do that. You did ... what you had to. What they didn't give you a choice about doing, not if you really cared enough."

We sat there not talking until it was pretty obvious the rain wasn't going to stop any time soon. Jace turned to me and said, "I'm serious. I ... I don't want to stay here any more ... I won't one way or the other. You seem like you have a place you are going to. I'll help you get there."

I shook my head more depressed than I had been in a long, long time. "I don't even know for sure if there even exists anymore."

"My guess is that it is one of the vacation areas north of here." Sometime must have given me away because he then said, "Yeah, I can see it in your face. You really need to work on being a better liar. But anyway, it's actually a good idea. I thought of doing that too. I always wondered why Uncle Simon was so against it and now I think maybe I know. I guess he might have found that Sammy's mother didn't run off like people said. Maybe he was even helping Sammy ... take care of her ... quarantine her or whatever you want to call that sick crap they were doing. It was probably over the baby. She was preggers ... they spent a ton of money on fertility treatments and stuff. I guess her being pregnant and then infected ... Oh God, I just don't know, don't know if I want to know." He swiped at his eyes like he was trying to scrub away what he had seen.

Knowing the feeling I told him, "Then stop wondering about it. It was what it was. I heard stories in the city that people tried to do the same thing ... supposedly until a vaccine or treatment could be found to fix the people that got infected. Thing is there is a reason why we called them puss brains."

"Yeah," he almost groaned. "Yeah, I get it. It fits. Which is why I don't understand why Uncle Simon would do ... I mean Sammy I can put down to crazy 'cause she was a little bit. John-John sorta kinda the same thing, or too young to really understand what he was doing was so crazy. But Uncle Simon?"

"Who knows? Love does stupid stuff to people. Makes them try crazy things."

He slowly nodded. "Yeah."

We were silent for a while more and then I heard my stomach growl real loud. He made a face at me and I sighed. He wouldn't let me be embarrassed though which was unexpected. He said, "Gotta eat or we aren't going to be able to stay warm when the weather gets seriously cold."

"Who said I've agreed to this plan you supposedly have?"

"You haven't. Yet. But it makes sense. I need ... need to ..." He looked at me. "I owe you. And ... and I need to pay that back. It doesn't matter whether you think I owe you ... I know I owe you. For Sammy ... and stuff. Let's just leave it at that."

Oh I think I've finally got it after thinking about it for a while. When I first met Jace he struck me as a guard dog for some reason. I'm pretty sure that is exactly what he is. He needs to be a guard dog ... kinda the same way that for my dad being a deputy was the only job for him. If Jace isn't a guard dog he won't have a purpose and without a purpose he won't know how to go forward. So I figure that maybe I'll let him be a guard dog, so long as we get a few ground rules set up first. And then maybe I'll find him someone new to guard and that will be ok. It sounds selfish but at the same time I'm thinking a guard dog might not be a bad thing to have from here on out.


	26. Chapter 26

Part Twenty-Six ****

"First we need to go through your back pack."

"Why?" I asked suspiciously. Only time anyone ever wanted to go through my stuff was so that they could "share" or "borrow" it.

"I need to make sure you have all the gear you might need. Plus it looks way too heavy for someone your size."

I told him, "I'm stronger than I look. I can carry my stuff."

"Maybe you can, but there might be some better equipment you can exchange your old stuff for. Uncle Simon carried some really good gear and down the street is a shop that catered to campers and backcountry hikers. At least let's look to see about cold weather gear. Let's start with socks ... and you need better shoes. Those canvas things won't do anything but let your feet get wet, cold, and from there it only gets worse."

I finally gave in. It just made more sense. Jace had something to teach me and it was stuff I needed to learn. I learned last winter to make it in the city when it was cold. Insulation and layering was the big thing I learned about. And fighting for my share of the food. But I'm thinking that surviving winter in the woods is going to be a lot different if I'm thinking of it right. Dad would have said don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Jace wasn't a horse but he was a guard dog. If I was going to have a guard dog I might as well let him do his job.

Within a couple of hours I had several changes of warm clothes - from the skin out - three pairs of new shoes plus two pair of hiking boots, a couple of hats, and a lot of personal camping gear. Jace had also picked out sleeping gear, a tent, ground cloth, and I don't know what all else. He said we are going back tomorrow with some empty crates and grab a bunch more stuff. When I asked why he said that even if we don't use it on the road we have no idea how well set up the cabins at Singing Waters will be ... assuming we get there and they aren't already occupied.

He was also making a list of tools like bolt cutters to remember and pack. "Dee Dee, why do you keep asking why?"

"Because I want to know why. If I don't ask then how do I know that I'm understanding the reasons for stuff?"

He sighed. "OK, but how's this? How about you save your questions until later in the day? The more you make me stop and explain things as we go the longer it is going to take."

Trying to decide whether to be insulted or not I asked, "Are you saying I talk too much?"

I'll credit him with at least thinking about it for two seconds before answering. "Let's just say you could slim back the number of words you use a little and it wouldn't hurt anything."

That night, after I had thrown together a vegetable stew, he told me, "I didn't say you had to shut up completely."

"I didn't," I told him.

"Might as well have."

Sighing in irritation I told him, "I ... look ... I'm either on or off. I don't know how to be both at the same time. I like to ask questions because I like to get answers so I understand stuff. I don't like feeling stupid. I really don't like being stupid."

He shook his head. "It isn't stupid or not stupid that I'm talking about. And it's not being on or off, whatever that means."

"Then what?"

"We don't have much time to try and go through everything around here to see what all you might need ... not just on this trip but in your new camp. You don't know what might or might not be available to you there."

"OK, I'll admit that Singing Waters isn't exactly in the middle of a shopping district but ..."

"No buts. Whatever was there last time might not be there this time. You might even have to pick a new spot if it has been taken over by people that don't want to take you in."

Stung I told him, "I don't need anyone to take me in. I don't want to be at the bottom of the pile anymore. You get stepped on too much down there."

He nodded. "Fine. But you still need to go prepared for there to be either nothing, next to nothing, or for a potential change in plans to a place that there might as well be nothing. And there is a limited amount of space to haul stuff with, and even then the truck could break down and you'll only have what is on your back."

"Can I ask you something?" He shrugged after rolling his eyes. "You said you would teach me stuff. I'm asking because you aren't explaining. You said you would but you aren't, you're doing everything for me. You said you would teach me how to do things and yet ... yet it sounds like you either don't want to or you aren't even going to stick around. So which is it? I kinda need to know."

He looked uncomfortable but nodded. "I know I said I would teach you things and I will; but, I also want to get out of here. Winter is going to come down hard sooner rather than later. No one knows what is coming in the next hour much less tomorrow so I'm trying to hurry and get set for what might be coming down the road.. The sooner you really understand what it is going to mean to be self-sufficient the better off you will be. And it will be easier to teach you that stuff from a secure place so I can see what you have to work with ... and you say the place you want to secure is Singing Waters."


	27. Chapter 27

Part Twenty-Seven ****

"Jace ..."

No response.

"Jace ..."

Still no response.

"Yo ... Jace!"

In a groggy only half-listening kind of voice he answered, "What?"

Finally. "That fire is spreading pretty fast."

"Good."

I sighed beginning to get concerned. "Earth to Jace. That tree is now on fire and it might fall over. If the tree falls over it is going to be on fire. If it falls over on fire then the fire might jump that big ditch thingie over there. From that point there is nothing to stop the fire from running all the way to the road. You know ... that flat concrete path through the forest and hills where we need to drive the truck and trailer?"

Jace was still staring at the flames when suddenly he stiffened and looked at me. "Dammit! If the fire crosses the gully ..." Partially coming out of his daze he snapped, "We have to get out of here and right now."

Hadn't I just said the same dingity dang thing? For someone that is supposed to be older than me and going to teach me things Jace was acting like he'd been hit in the head really hard ... more than once or twice. He started running and pulling me along with him. If I had locked my knees I would have just skiied along. The leaves on top of the path we were using were damp and slippery from the recent rain and were perfect for sliding, but the leaves underneath were very dry. In fact there were a lot of dry things for the fire to burn now that the sun and cold and low humidity had sucked the moisture from everything again.

An hour later the smoke from the fire was still visable which meant that the fire had definitely grown. When the wind blew from that direction you could even smell it. Jace said, "We aren't stopping until we cross the state line."

That was a change in plans. "Wait, I thought you said you didn't want to do Rockford at night. If we don't stop until we get into Wisconsin that's exactly what is going to happen."

"I know what I said but I changed my mind."

"Why?"

He slammed on the breaks so hard the trailer fish tailed. "I told you ..."

He turned to look at me and I had my big screw driver up and ready which shut him up. "Don't scream and yell," I told him quietly using the tone of voice that Sherry did right before she would slap the bejeebers out of me. "Just because you are in the driver's seat doesn't mean I don't have a right to ask which way you are driving. I want to know why you changed your mind. I'm beginning to wonder if ..."

"Don't," he said quietly. "I ... look I'm just not used to somebody asking me why all the time and ... and I've never had to explain things before. It's irritating and I don't have a lot of patience right now. Clarey never did. And as cracked as Sammy was she didn't ask why as much as you do either."

"I don't care. I'm not your crazy cousin and I'm not your dead girlfriend," I told him in a voice that told him just how dangerous my not caring could be. "You lay one hand on me, even try it, and I'll do whatever I have to to make you stop. In fact, just let me out here and give me my pack. This isn't working."

"DeeDee ... I ..."

"Say it or not, I don't care whether you're sorry. I lived a full year being stomped on by people. I'm tired of it."

Rather than stop he put the truck in gear and started driving again. I growled, "I said let me out."

He shook his head and kept driving anyway. "No. Just because I acted like a jerk is no reason for you to get stupid." He was quiet for a minute while I contemplated how badly hurt I would be if I jumped from a moving vehicle. He must have sensed it because he hit the electric - and childproof - lock button. I turned to give him a warning look when he started talking again. "The reason why is that I've been thinking about our route. We picked the fastest way which is straight up the interstate. When I was still in Springfield we heard radio reports about how the military concentrated on clearing the interstates and major highways so they could move large convoys around more easily so I'm pretty sure we aren't going to hit road blockages or anything like that unless it is something that has happened in the last six months. But I was looking at the map last night and there are too many larger towns and cities along that route. We need to move through quickly and since we've got the clear roads we might as well take plenty of advantage of them."

"But Rockford ..."

"I know. It will be the biggest of them. The interstate skirts the city and if ... when ... we get around Rockford then the state line and Beloit are just a hop, skip, and a jump beyond that. We've got plenty of gas in the trailer ... or at least plenty enough to get close to Singing Waters. What we don't know about is the weather. We need to take advantage of decent weather while we have it. Right now it is looking fairly ok ... tomorrow might be a different story. October weather this far north can be changeable. I looked in Uncle Simon's almanacs and the average temp in south Wisconsin is 50s and 60s during the day and 30s and 40s at night. That's good weather. On the other hand where you want to go is way north of there in the Nicolet National Forest. You know how cold it is going to get there? We need to get there soonest and get you set up."

I let him continue to ramble. What I hate is when he is constantly saying things like where YOU want to go, where we need to get YOU set up. It isn't like I'm looking for company or anything but he said he'd be around long enough to teach me how to do things that I need to do. By always talking about me, never about himself as part of it, it makes me wonder just what is going on in his head.


	28. Chapter 28

Part Twenty-Eight ****

"So much for making it through Rockford," Jace snapped while he threw the tire iron back into the truck.

I kept my mouth shut. I could literally see the steam coming off his skin where the hot sweat met the cool afternoon air; and, his eyes looked a whole lot like they had that first day I'd accidentally entered his world.

Jace snarled, "Get in the truck."

I got in the truck but hid my screwdriver within easy reach. Something very, very wrong was going on in Jace's head. Doc might have called it something like PTSD. I'm not sure. He said a lot of people in the city were suffering from it because of the "mental and physical trauma and deprivations" we were all dealing with. Moses just called it getting crazy. Having the crazies isn't necessarily a deal breaker as far as getting a lift from Jace to where I want to go but it definitely makes me more careful. So long as what he says and what he does mostly mesh we'll be fine even if he gets a little crazy. But when he starts saying one thing and doing another I'm going to move on all on my lonesome and he can go take his crazies someplace else.

Besides I don't even think Dad would have been happy to have had to change three tires in one day. The first two were on the truck and we had them. Jace drives me nuts saying things like, "Two is one and one is none." But I think I'm beginning to be a believer. What that means according to Jace is "redundancy is key to survival." In other words, not just having one extra of something but having several extras of everything. Hmmm. Don't know if I would go that far but it sure doesn't look like it hurts any at all.

The third tire was on the trailer and we had to plug and refill that one with that canned foam junk but to do it we had to take it off which was so not fun. Jace wasn't the only one with wracked knuckles that time.

We finally got to a place where we could pull off the interstate, called Hwy 38, and tried to get some rest. Before we went to sleep Jace insisted on "discussing the day's progress."

He started, "Look, about earlier ..."

"Forget it. You cracked your knuckles a couple of times. Guys don't like that kind of stuff," I told him trying to distance myself from him. Sherry had warned me about guys that apologize all the time. If they were really sorry she said, they wouldn't have to apologize more than once or twice instead of going back and doing the same thing over and over.

He gave me a searching look but I refused to look back. "You don't believe me do you," he said. Problem was his tone said his feelings were more hurt about me not believing him than they were about how he'd acted in the first place to get me that way.

I shrugged. "I don't know you. How should I know whether you act like this all the time or just when you get stressed out? How do I know your apology is worth anything?"

"That's harsh."

I shrugged again. "So's life."

He looked like he wanted to get mad but then he shrugged his own shoulders. "True. And that's what we need to talk about."

"Lesson time?"

"Yes and no. Let's call this preschool and see how fast you graduate."


	29. Chapter 29

Part Twenty-Nine ****

"Oh goodie. I like school," I told him in a lispy little girl voice. Then snorted and stuck my tongue out at him. It made him smile. It was a small smile but at least it was real and the corners of his mouth turned up a little.

He asked, "OK, what did you notice when we got off the interstate?"

I looked at him and wondered just what he was asking about. "You mean what did I see?"

"Start with that."

Start with that he says. "Hmmm. OK, the road was clear like you said it would be. There's been a few wrecks along the road but they looked like they had been pushed to the side even if they happened in the middle."

"Good. What else?"

"Those signs. They looked ... I don't know ... they weren't just homemade and junk. They looked like someone that knew how to make signs made them; like they were real signs and not something someone just used spray paint and cardboard to make."

"That's right. What did the signs say?"

"Different things ... Stay away from x, y, and z. Where evacuation points were. Prepare to stop for inspection and if you don't stop expect to get shot."

Jace nodded. "OK. What about when we got off?"

"You mean that this exit ramp was harder to get off on compared to some of the other ones? We had to push that car out of the way to get passed and under the overpass. The highway looks kinda all tore up too."

Jace nodded again, this time with some approval that made me feel better even if I didn't really want to fall into that trap. "Good eye. So what do you think it means?"

"What do you mean what does it mean? How am I supposed to know that? It isn't like they've hung a sign explaining it all."

He flicked a piece of gravel at me. "Don't act stupid Dee Dee. Go back to how you survived in the city. You'd see something and it would be a clue that told you something could be around the corner or what happened or whatever."

I didn't want to tell him in the city I was used to other people thinking about that stuff for me so I tried to put the two and two together that he had handed me. "The military or someone like the military uses these roads ... or did for a while. Up to six months ago anyway when you had to leave the radio at Springfield."

Jace nodded. "Now those signs tell us that at least for a while someone was patrolling the roads too because they were stopping people like they had the authority to do it. A couple of those wrecks might be where people didn't want to be stopped and whoever did what they said they were going to do which was shoot. But I don't think they were total scumbags about it because there are plenty of warning signs."

I said, "They also give places to stay away from and it looks like some of the place names would get added to whatever the sign said when it was first put up. Some of the evacuation points were X'd out so they didn't get people's hopes up or kept some information going current. Some of the exit ramps were also destroyed with warning signs saying that it was dangerous to enter that area."

Jace flicked another piece of gravel at me but this time it was with approval. I guess it was a guy thing. "Good catch on how they are/were adding names to the list of dangerous places. Which leads us to here. The exit ramp ... it isn't clear but it doesn't look intentionally blocked does it?"

"Not on purpose, no."

"But the cars have been here a while. The cars are covered with dust and debris and so are the scortch marks where that truck caught fire that we tried to move but couldn't. Which kinda goes against the rest of the wrecks and ramps."

Beginning to see it I said, "You mean that whoever 'they' is for some reason isn't taking care of things anymore."

"Or at least not in this immediate area for a while. You probably didn't hear much where you were but the military did a lot of what they called pulling back. It is like they were ... uh ... consolidating their positions. That's a term they used alot. A formerly secure site would fall and they would pull back and reorganize, tighten up their defensive lines. Sometimes that meant abandoning evacuation points, towns, and other strategic locations. Sounded like a real mess when you were listening and there was a lot of armchair quarterbacking by people in my group. The professors were always trying to out guess what the military and government would do next and complain and criticize it."

Thinking about it I told him, "This doesn't look like a mess, not like some of the messes that I've seen. This just looks ... I don't know ... forgotten, like it is a place that doesn't matter enough anymore to bother with it."

Jace nodded slowly, "Good way of describing it." He gave me a closed look and said, "I know I bitched - geez that look could scare an infected ... fine I won't swear. Geez you're picky. Anyway, I know I 'complained' about not making the state line earlier so this is going to sound pretty crazy. I want to check out that town down the highway ... Rochelle or whatever it's called. I want to see what kind of condition it is in."

I gave it two seconds of thought before looking right at him and saying, "Why?"

He knew I was picking at him because of his earlier complaints about me asking too many questions. He rolled his eyes but responded, "Because the shape it is in will give us some more clues. Might also see if there are some tires for the truck. Kill two birds with one stone."

"Fine." After a moment I added, "Is that the last of preschool? 'Cause I gotta tell you I don't feel like I'm getting that educated."

He snorted. "No, that's not all for tonight. But I wanted to see how fast you got a concept."

"What concept?"

"It is called situational awareness. It's something you need to have whether you are in immediate danger or not. That means getting clues from what you see ... and sometimes what you don't see."

"You mean like missing pieces of a puzzle."

"Yep. And since you seem to at least understand that I want you to make sure you practice it. It's important Dee Dee. You ask why so much. Well, what if someone isn't there to answer your question?"

I nodded understanding what he meant. "You mean if I just shut up and watch and listen and look for clues I might be able to answer the question before I have to ask it."

"Yeah, exactly. It's not that ... that you shouldn't ask questions. It's just that you ask so many ... and half of them you wouldn't have to if you'd just take a few moments to think for yourself."

My feelings wanted to get hurt but since Jace wasn't the first person to point that out to me ... Toddie used to say roughly the same thing ... I tried to just accept it. Thinking about it I do realize that getting stuff from books like I used to was fine as far as it goes but there isn't exactly a manual on how to survive what the world has turned into ... or at least I haven't found one yet. I'd been depending on other people. I'd even kind of been looking forward to going back to my old life, until I finally accepted that my old life was gone forever and so were most of the people from it. Then I accepted Jace's promise to teach me stuff so I could depend on myself for real. But if I am going to do this, I need to do it right.

"Earth to Dee Dee."

I looked at Jace. "I was thinking."

"Didn't look pleasant."

"Wasn't but that's life. So ... what's next Teacher?"


	30. Chapter 30

Part Thirty ****

"Planning."

"Planning what?" I asked Jace.

"Everything. You have to have a plan before you need one. And for everything you will eventually need a plan." Out of the blue he shoots a question at me. "What are the basic elements of survival?"

"Huh?" When he just looked at me I put my brain in gear and slowly answered, "Water. Shelter. Food."

In a really stupid fake voice Jace said, "Very good Grasshopper."

Toddie used to do the same thing and I hated it then too. "Oh shut up."

He bowed from his waist while sitting on a camp stool. He looked like a dork but it still made me smile even while it brought back memories I would rather not have thought of. Getting serious again he said, "There are actually more elements than that but those are the most important. You can't live without food and water and in many cases you can't live without some kind of shelter either. The most important of course is water."

I started ticking off what I'd already learned. "Canteen. Filter. Buckets to catch rain and snow. Something to boil water in. Bleach. Those little pill thingies you packed that decontaminate the water. And at the cabin there is a well house with two hand pumps in it for potable water."

"Know what potable water is?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not a complete know-nothing. Potable means you can drink it, cook with it, and that sort of thing. I also know how to prime the well. I learned how from the people that ran Singing Water. There was this old guy named Mr. Svenson ... he was some kind of uncle or something like that to the people that ran the place ... and he used to like my questions because it gave him somebody to talk to. Mom didn't mind because it kept me out of trouble. Toddie didn't mind because it meant he didn't have to babysit me all the time. Dad didn't mind because he said I talked so much I ran the fish off."

He snorted and said, "I can see that."

"You wanna cook from here on out?"

"No. But that's a good enough segue into the next survival element and that is food. This one is going to be harder."

"No kidding," I said sarcastically. "First lesson I learned in the city was how important food was and that no one was just going to give it to you for no reason. You have to fight for your share."

"Uh ... well ... maybe not quite that where you want to go but you are going to have to be real serious about finding and preserving your food so you'll have some on days you don't find any new stuff. We've got a lot in the truck and trailer but we still have a long ways to go and we are eating up more than we are adding to the supplies. That's another reason I want to check out that town. Any little bit that we can add back in is going to make it easier to give you time to figure things out once you get settled in at the cabin."

He was doing that 'you' thing again and it was still just as irritating as the first time he'd done it. I let it go but just barely; I didn't want to sour his disposition again ... or at least that's what Mom would have called it. "I know how to fish. I did it plenty every summer."

"Did you catch anything?"

"Sure."

"Every time?"

"Of course not. That's not how fishing works."

"Well at least you're honest."

"Smarty pants ... I can also bait my hook and clean my catch. Dad made me learn how. He said it wasn't fair to expect him and Mom to do everything if I was going to eat it."

"Well," he said surprised. "Count me impressed. Maybe this won't be as hard as I thought it would be."

"Thanks a lot," I told him three-quarters disgusted that he was acting like such a guy.

"No. Seriously. This really isn't going to be bad. I've got more to work with than I thought."

Well, doesn't he know how to flatter a girl? "Alright already. We both agree I'm not a complete doofus in the food department. Guess what? I can also make and bake bread, garden a real vegetable garden, and clean and cook chickens. So there."

Slowly he asked, "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Seriously. Mom didn't work which meant the only paycheck was the one Dad brought in. We lived in a little house with a little money. Mom did what she had to so that Dad wouldn't feel like a little man. She figured one day I might get married so she taught me the way her mom taught her."

"Wow."

"Yeah. So what else?" I asked suddenly depressed.

He nodded. "Well, you can fish but can you hunt?"

"Uh ... no."

"Well, at least I have something to teach you. There will be time to get into more details but since you've already said you can't hit the broadside of a barn I think we'll start with snares and traps as opposed to a gun or bow. When we get where we're going I'll look around and see what kind of wild foods there are to forage. There won't be much this late in the year but I'll try and mark off areas that might be worth something come spring. Now for the last thing ... shelter."


	31. Chapter 31

**Part Thirty-One**

"You've told me a little bit about Singing Waters but I want you to see it in your mind's eye and really describe it for me this time."

"Seriously?" I asked him sense it sounded kind of stupid the way he said it.

"Yeah. See it and think about the place in relation to water, food, and shelter."

I sighed. And felt kinda dumb but decided to try it his way. "OK ... the place isn't really big ... I mean the national forest is big of course but the campground is only like about forty acres from the entrance gate to the lake. The only fence is up near the gravel road where you come in at; after that it is all open and stuff but there are boundary markers to tell you when you've left the campground and walked into the USFS land. Dad's been - had been - going there since he was a boy and the cabins have been in the same family all that time. It is some kind of leftover something or other from pioneer days back before there was such a thing as a national forest. Actually, it used to be a logging camp in the beginning, then it was some kind of hunting club thing, and then the owners started getting families in back around the early 1900s so they converted it to a kind of tourist place. There were more cabins when Dad was a kid but a fire that happened right before Mom and Dad got married burned down half of them. The family took the insurance money and refurbished the remaining cabins, built a nice well house, built chamber toilets onto each cabin, and added a central dining hall where they would have cook outs and stuff a couple of times a week and where you could get the kind of junk food campers sometimes buy ... that freeze dried stuff that tastes like used matches. Last time we were up there they were in the middle of adding outdoor showers to the cabins too but I don't know if they ever finished them. They'd built solar cisterns - some 'green energy' project a grandson was doing his doctoral thesis on. Dad said Benji - the grandson of Mr. Svenson - was a hippie wannabe and didn't like me going near him because he said his friends felt a little off to his spidey senses."

Jace had a look on his face like I'd given him a whole lot more information that he wanted or needed. I guess I do kinda talk alot once I get going. He was a good sport though and didn't say anything except to ask, "How close are the cabins to the woods? To the lake?"

Trying to ease back a little on the carbon dioxide I was expelling I told him, "Closer to the woods than the lake though you can see the dock from every cabin's porch."

"Animals?"

"What? You mean like pets? No ... no pets allowed. Forest animals. Yeah. Kinda, I guess. It depended on how many cabins were rented out and how many people were hanging out on the lake and if everyone remembered to pick up their trash the right way."

He got it in one. "You mean bears?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Not so much when we were there in the summer but the owners said they could be a problem later in the season. They close the cabins down by the end of October."

He got a concerned look on his face. "Describe the cabins."

"Why?"

"Because I need to know if these cabins are even set up for winter."

"Oh. Gotcha," I said understanding what he meant. " A lot of the cabins around the lake are just frame and stuff but the cabins at Singing Waters are the real deal. They are made of real whole logs, not just split wood frame. They used to rent them out for ice fishing and cross country skiing when I was little but they stopped that the year I started middle school. The owners said they just didn't want to bother hiring someone to stay up there year round when it was easier and cheaper to hire college kids to do it for the summer alone. After Labor Day it was only Mr. Svenson and his wife that stayed up there and he said they were thinking about shortening the season even more because of Mr. Svenson's arthritis."

"Well that's a relief ... about the cabin walls anyway. Can you remember what kind of roofs they have?"

"Sure. Insulated metal roofs. The owners were real big on fire prevention and stuff. Each cabin had fire extinguishers, smoke alarms, and carbon monoxide alarms because of the wood stoves. Every night program they put on there were presentations about fire safety. Once a week they would have a real forestry ranger come and do a Smokey the Bear kind of thing for the little kids. In fact, if you were a kid and learned all the rules and some other nature stuff while you were there you got a little something from the gift shop as a prize. Usually it was a mini compass, magnifying glass, or some other thing with the camp logo on it - Mom called it free advertising and was always telling me that if she found it just lying around she would throw it away as junk. I have a whole box of those little things."

Looking surprised he said, "Have? You don't mean that's what is in that old raggedy bag you wouldn't let me look in?"

I shrugged. "None your bees wax what is in that bag." A girl has to have some secrets. I also keep this notebook in that old raggedy bag and he doesn't need to know that either. He doesn't need to know about my personal stash of girl stuff for that matter.

"OK. Whatever," he said rolling his eyes. What about the kitchen?"

"Well, there isn't a kitchen." Before he could say something snotty I told him, "You can sorta kinda cook on the Franklin wood stove - my folks heated their coffee up that way or Mom would boil water for oatmeal - but the main cooking was done outside in the fire ring or on the grill thingie. And Mom used to bake biscuits in a reflector oven that caught the heat from the Franklin."

Looking skeptical he said, "We'll need to think about that one and see how it goes. So what about windows?"

"Uh ... well there are windows but they aren't glass. Dad said they were made of Leann or something like that."

He thought for a second before snorted at what he probably thought was my stupidity. "Lexan, it's a kind of plastic."

"Yeah, that's it. The window is sandwiched between two sets of shutters."

"Huh?"

Remembering how Toddie had liked to scare me by dropping the inside shutter real fast and then catching it at the last second before it squashed me I shook my head. "There is an inside shutter that is hinged at the top of the window opening. You pull this chain and the shutter opens toward the ceiling and then you put the chain on the hook on the wall to keep it open. Then comes the window and you can open it by lowering the top part into the bottom part; it lets the heat out that is rising ... Mom called them a transom window and said it creates a good cross breeze. Next is the screen ... real ones, not those flimsy plastic things that tear if you swat a fly on it. And on the outside are regular looking shutters that open and close like bi-fold doors. And before you ask, the door to the outside is really heavy and everything too and has a screen door on the outside. The door opens onto a porch that is screened in to keep the mosquitos and flies out - sometimes they can get really bad right as the sun is going down - and that's about it."

"What about the inside? How many bedrooms?"

"There isn't a real bedroom with a door and all ... there's like this partition that gives it a little privacy but still lets the heat from the wood stove in. There is a clothes line wire that you can hang a curtain on if you want to ... Mom did that ... but Toddie and I slept on bunk beds in the opposite corner of the main room. Some of the cabins are bigger but we always reserved the same one each year. It was like Dad's tradition. Mom put up with it because it made Dad happy. Toddie didn't come with us the last time we went because Dad made him get a job and he 'accidentally' asked for the wrong week off. Yeah right. Wish he was here so I could kick him. He really hurt Dad's feelings that time."

After a moment he asked, "Are you set on having the same cabin or would you be interested in one of the bigger cabins?"

I shrugged. "I hadn't really thought about it. I guess it depends on if there is anyone else there ahead of me. And if there's not ..." I shrugged again. I really hadn't given it any thought but I suppose I had better.

"I guess that can wait til you get there."

"'Til I get there?"

He sighed. "Figure of speech Dee Dee. Now let's get some sleep. You sleep in the back and I'll sleep in the cab. I'd prefer to sleep out here but there's no security and ..." He slapped his neck. "And the bugs are getting pretty bad."


	32. Chapter 32

**Part Thirty-Two**

Well we got tires for the truck and some for the trailer. Picked up a few other odds and ends too though I suppose it didn't seem like much compared to what Jace had decided to leave back in his village as being "too cumbersome and not worth the trouble." Some of it was still nice stuff. I even sneaked a couple of snowglobes into my pack that I didn't tell him about. Found one in Rochelle too; maybe I'll start collecting them. But to be honest, what we mostly got was depressed.

Jace looked like something was eating him up from the inside out. He was lucky I was covering his back or he'd been chomped on about three times. It reminded me too much of the way some of the people in the group used to act. I didn't like the wiggy feeling I was getting off of him so I tried to start a conversation by saying, "That town was another one of those refugee centers where they evacuated uninfected people to."

Jace nodded grimly as he sipped some bean broth left over from the pot of beans that I'd made for supper. "Yeah," he grunted. "FEMA signs up all over the place."

"Don't you mean down all over the place?"

He looked at me and I could tell he was bound and determined to stay in a foul mood. "This is no joking matter. It looks like they were overrun by infecteds."

I shrugged. "Not necessarily. I know there were quite a collection of puss brains in that place but compared to some places I've been caught in, it wasn't all that bad. Besides in the city, at least in the early days, you were just as likely to be taken out by a riot as by a flock of puss brains."

"A flock? Didn't I just say ..."

Trying to stop the runaway train that Jace's temper could turn into I told him, "I'm not making fun Jace. It is just what we used to call them if the group of puss brains were too few to be considered a horde and too many to be a bunch or ... or whatever. You know what I mean."

He shook his head in disgust. "Those people you hung out with messed you up. You just ..."

"Just what?" I asked not sure I wanted to know.

"Don't you have any ... any ... finer sensibilities ... like a real girl? You act ... completely ... totally ..." He shook his head again apparently at a loss.

I looked at him and said quietly, "I survived. Maybe I didn't survive as the same person I was to start with. Maybe I'll never be the person I could have been. Maybe Mom and Dad and Toddie wouldn't think I was a nice girl anymore. But I survived. You don't like it. Tough."

I guess he realized he'd been a little harsh because he tried to backtrack by saying, "Dee Dee, I didn't mean ..."

"Yeah you did. You just can't find the right words to use to say it. Well I don't care. I didn't ask you to babysit me. I don't need a babysitter. And I sure don't need someone to try and teach me manners or ... or finer sensibilities ... or anything else that just might get me killed. But since you're so disgusted I free you from this promise you made. Just give me my pack and ..."

He growled and said, "OK, that's enough. You're starting to sound like a Drama Queen." I nearly threw my bowl at him but he didn't notice because he was in the middle of spewing it out. "Fine. I hurt your feelings. Let's not get all stupid over it. I'm tired. You're tired. This day has sucked. Rochelle was bad enough but then Rockford, where I'd hoped to maybe see another camp or military base, was a burned out shell. We had no choice but to drive through there the best we could and still managed to do the one thing I didn't want to have to do. Here we are outside of yet another f ... uh ... messed up hell hole, this one with too many infecteds for me to feel comfortable, but we had to stop because it is too dark for me to see to change another damn tire because of that mess in Rockford. I'm sick of this. Let's just clean up and try and get some rest."

He did look kinda bad. In hindsight maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. "Don't you ever look on the bright side of things?"

"You've got to be kidding me! There isn't a bright side to this nightmare!"

"Sure there is," I told him. "We made it across the state line only one day behind your schedule. We found the tires we needed so we don't have to dig around in this place ... Beloit or however you pronouce it. We found those two cases of water and those big cans of food in that FEMA truck. We found all those packages of condiments in that other big truck. You got some camouflage pants that are long enough and I actually found some jeans that will fit without having to cut a yard off in the leg but weren't little kid clothes so they fit my butt too which is a major bonus from a girl stand point." All he did was roll his eyes so I continued, "And then there is some of that other junk we picked up and it all fit in the trailer even though you said there wouldn't be room for it. We also found some more of those clues you were going on about last night ... being situationally aware to what the big picture is. Using those clues we mostly figured out what probably happened to make the military pull back and abandon the town. And to top it off you learned how to break into cars without having to break a window and make a lot of noise. Courtesy of yours truly thank you very much."

He shook his head. "You are so freakin' strange. Demented even. How does that nearly worthless crap balance against all of those dead bodies?! They used to be people ... real live people ... just like my dad, Clarey, Uncle Simon, Sammy, John-John ..."

He was really getting wound up so I told him calmly, "I didn't say it balanced things out. Nothing is ever going to balance things out. But we are still better off than we were first thing this morning. It counts. It might not count for much in your eyes but in mine it is a heck of a lot better than most days in the city. Close to Disneyland even."

He opened his mouth to shout but then seemed to decide not to for some reason. He just kept looking at me then asked, "It was really that bad in the city?"

I shrugged and responded, "It was really that bad. People died every day. You had to get used to it or you'd be the next one dead. The people weren't always in your group but someone was always dying. And not just from the puss brains. Trust me, if you don't already know, most people are animals at heart, especially guys. But girls aren't always all the way human either. Sometimes it wasn't the puss brains that were the most dangerous. Other stuff made it hard too. Food was getting really, really difficult to find. We'd heard rumors that some people were going cannibal ... no one in our group but some of the inner city gangs were pretty nasty. Clean water was scarce too ... everything was getting contaminated. Then there is all the things people used to be able to go to the doctor for ... simple stuff like cuts and bangs on the head ... only now it can kill you from infections and bleeding that you can't stop quick enough." I stopped, caught up in some of my memories then jumped when I felt him touch my shoulder. I turned to look him in the eye and said, "People die Jace. And sometimes they are the lucky ones."


	33. Chapter 33

**Part Thirty-Three**

We didn't talk much after that, just enough to pick up what needed picking up. I climbed into the back of the truck inside the camper top and tried to get comfortable but wound up using my nifty night goggles that we found inside an overturned military cargo truck to write in this notebook. Then when I was finally tired I laid down and slept. I assume Jace did something similar but he hasn't looked too good all day today.

Around mid-day I asked him, "Teach me to drive?" I figured if I knew how to drive he wouldn't have to do it all and could maybe get some rest. So much for my trying to be nice.

He looked like he suddenly got sick to his stomach. "Are you kidding?! You'd need a booster seat to see over the steering wheel. I doubt you can even reach the pedals. I said I would teach you what you needed to survive, not how to kill yourself and me along with you."

I could have handled it if he had been kidding but he wasn't. He was completely serious and I got completely hacked off. I gave him the silent treatment but the jerk didn't seem to mind at all. I probably would have made more of a point if I had refused to cook but since I wanted to eat someone had to do it and that someone seemed to be me. Sucker.

As we drove along the interstate was still pretty clear though there were more signs of neglect the further north we went. When we hit Madison you could say we hit what looked like the end of the world. The interstate literally just disappeared. I don't know what blew up but it was huge. We had to turn west and then tried to pick the interstate back up by going across that piece of land betweent Lake Mendota and Lake Menona but we got half way across and it turned out to be the western boundary of whatever had gone boom.

We back tracked again and after looking on a map decided to just go around Madison completely by following the loop highway. Geez. It was bad. Really bad.

We saw people ... uninfected people ... but I'm not sure they were still all human. They looked like the homeless people in the city during the middle of winter after gang members had messed around with them. They scurried around pushing carts and wheelbarrows, digging through what remained of the city; human cockroaches feeding off of anything they could find. It was like having a flashback of St. Louis.

As bad as I felt I could tell Jace was shook. I think it was the kids that did it. Shades of Sammy and John-John and all that carp. It was kinda strange but everyone ran from the truck instead of towards it like I expected.

Before I could ask why Jace said, "They must have had a bad experience with people that still have vehicles. Maybe the military. Maybe gangs."

I snorted. "Or maybe someone is just trying to set themselves up like some kind of warlord or king. Get a load of that."

I pointed to what I had seen and Jace looked ready to hurl. His knuckles were blue white where he was gripping the steering wheel but he kept going and never slowed down.

A handpainted sign had been nailed up near the hanging corpses that were swinging in the rancid breeze and it read, "By order of the Mayor of Madison." Each corpse had a sign hung around its neck. Most of them said "Looter" though one of them said "Treason." The one that got me though was the one that said "Necrophilia."

"Jace? Does that mean what I think it means?"

He shuddered. "Stop asking so many questions DeeDee and just keep your eyes open for trouble."

I took that as a yes. It's not like I don't know there are some sick people in this world. I pal'd around with a few of them in the city. But there is sick and then there is sick.

It took hours to get out of Madison. We kept having to back track and try a different road. It was like being in a disaster movie; whole buildings had fallen over blocking roads and making them impassable. Overpasses and bridges were just rubble like somebody had upended a bucket of lincoln logs. Radio and cell towers were like scattered tinker toys. Eventually though we made it to this place called Devils Lake State Park. We were several miles north of Madison and needed to go east to hook back into the interstate but it was too dark to go on. Jace was frustrated and walked off to ... uh ... water a tree ... and left me to watch the truck. I guess someone had been watching us because a girl came out of the woods and said, "You missed them. Everyone left last week."


	34. Chapter 34

**Part Thirty-Four**

It is a good thing it was me and not Jace who she snuck up on or Sunny wouldn't have lived very long. Jace's temper isn't the only thing that is quick on the trigger.

Long story short - and I absolutely refuse to write out the whole long lecture Jace gave me about stranger awareness and how angry he was at me for just striking up a conversation with someone even if it was someone like Sunny - Sunny is a little slow in the mental department if you don't mind my saying so. And since this is my notebook I'll say it any way I dingity dang well please. I'm just saying it, not saying it to be hurtful or rude. I don't care if Jace did have a snit because I told him using the same words to explain Sunny seeming a little light in the IQ numbers.

I wasn't being catty. I don't mean she needs to be labeled like they would have at school. I just meant that she seemed ... I don't know ... slow about some stuff like math, amounts, and people's personal space.

Explaining in her kind of sing songy voice she said, "They put signs up all over the place. They said if you wanted to be evacuated then you had to get here by two weeks ago and that the military would move us to a safe facility."

Jace asked, "A safe facility? What does that mean?"

Sunny just shrugged. "I dunno. Just someplace where there aren't any infected people. That's what Gran told me."

"Gran?"

"Yeah, we're from Madison but there were people here from all over. My uncle and his family had been visiting us from Detroit when things went bad. First he drove us to the FEMA camp in Rochelle but when that place got destroyed by those people that tried to take over and be boss we all came here."

I looked at Jace to give him an I-told-you-so-face about reading the "clues" we had found but he wasn't paying attention. He asked Sunny, "Where is everyone else?"

Like it was almost no big deal she answered, "I'm the only one left. They wouldn't take anyone that looked like they'd been infected. I was babysitting my niece and she bit me and left a bruise and when someone saw it and started screaming they threw me off the bus. I don't mind though, they wouldn't take Gran either because she was dying without her blood pressure medicine. She had a heart attack two days after we got here and they put her in this place called an infirmity. When they packed everything up to go they were just going to leave her because they said it was limited resources and something called triage. I don't wanna be with people that are like that. I stayed here with Gran when those that weren't evacuated ran off to try and find someplace else to hole up for the winter."

Trying to get the rest of her story out of her Jace carefully asked, "Where's your grandmother?"

Again like it wasn't a huge deal Sunny answered, "She died. I buried her the best I could. I need to find some more rocks though. Something keeps trying to dig her up. You look big and strong. Can you help with some heavy rocks? I've got food I can trade." So, more proof that either she is blocked up mentally or blocked up emotionally. I just hope whatever it is doesn't come unblocked in the middle of a situation. Reason why I say this is because Guard Dog Jace caught me off guard.

Jace didn't even look at me but started lecturing Sunny on talking to strangers but he did it a lot nicer than the way he'd done the same thing to me. Apparently he is partial to playing hero to people he thinks are helpless. I think he is learning I'm not helpless, just need a little help to get me going the right direction and it has left a whole in his plans or in his ... I don't know ... in what he needs to keep his head on straight.

Without even asking me he agreed that we'd stay and help Sunny. I left him sitting by the fire with her, lecturing her about how she needs to do this, that, and the other. Got news for Jace. Sunny may be a little simple but that doesn't mean she is stupid. She can cook just as good as I can, maybe better. Her soup was so good not even Toddie would have complained about it but she fell on my cornbread like she hadn't had any in a long time.

"Your own cooking gets old after a while," she told me when she saw me noticing how she was wolfing the bread down. "And Gran never would let me do much baking. I always forget about when things need to come out of the oven and it set the smoke alarms off alot. Those things would make Gran's hearing aids scream and she hated that. She also got mad about wasting food. We only lived on her social security and my SSI 'cause she didn't like me leaving the house to work. But I used to work in the convenience store on the corner but then they closed and they stopped the bus line that ran close to the house."

I shrugged disregarding most of what she'd said and told her, "As far as cooking, it depends on how hungry you are I guess. This past year I've been so hungry that my own cooking was just fine for every meal."

She nodded like it was an accepted fact. Out of no where she asked me, "How old are you?"

"Uh ... fifteen," I responded cautiously.

"Hmm. That guy your boyfriend? Your brother?"

The idea was slightly nauseating. "Ew. No. To both questions."

She nodded with a satisfied look on her face. "Didn't think so but its always polite to ask first. Mind if I see if Jace wants to be my boyfriend?"

I shrugged realizing that Sunny was older than she looked, at least in the experience area, and if I'm being honest smarter about some things than me ... or at least than I chose to be. Still, just because I didn't want Jace that way is no reason to throw him to the wolves ... or wolf. I told her, "Just be careful. He's been hurt. A lot of people he cared about have died. Even a girl he was going to marry."

"Oh," she said biting her cheek looking concerned. "He's the marrying kind. That takes special handling. Gran said you didn't just fool around with guys like that. They take things real serious."

Sunny made me want to laugh the way she saw things. Put the way she said it I could see it but I still didn't know exactly what to make of her so I just shrugged and said, "Uh ... yeah, I guess so."

She nodded and said, "Gran was the one that told me all about men and she would know. She'd been married four times and was working on getting number five to come around before the monsters got him on the way here. She always said that a real woman needed a man by her side even if they were a lot of work to keep up with."

Well, there's not much to say to something like that. She made guys sound like a pet or an accessory or something. Suddenly I wasn't feeling much like laughing anymore.

After we all cleaned up Sunny went to ... well whatever she is doing with Jace. It's not like I begrudge her or anything. I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I've got other priorities that come first. But I'm not sure that I want things to get the kind of interesting they are bound to get if Jace and Sunny ... shudder ... gotta get the pictures out of my head. Waaay too much TMI.


	35. Chapter 35

**Part Thirty-Five**

I knew it has been a while since I've written but I hadn't really paid attention to how long until I thought about writing tonight. I took a look at my homemade calendar out to put the date and the top of the page and just about freaked. Two weeks. We've been parked in this area for two whole weeks. I was just about ready to pick up and leave on my own when Jace and Sunny stopped ... well, I'm not sure what they've been up to and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. Although I must admit the time hasn't been completely wasted.

Jace decided he could kill two birds with one stone - figuritively anyway - and started teaching both Sunny and I those survival skills he was going to teach just me. We've been doing a little bit of everything ... fishing, orienteering, and hunting. Fishing was a no brainer for me and we ate fish almost every day at one or two meals. I'd catch it and clean it and Sunny would cook it. I didn't complain, she really is a good cook. Since she seemed to be determined that she couldn't bake anything, in exchange for her teaching me how she did fish I taught her to make cornmeal patties ... they look like cornmeal pancakes ... so that she could have her bread without having to do any baking. She was so happy she jumped around and fell on top of Jace who had been sitting by the fire thinking. Instead of getting mad like I thought he would he actually laughed. Right there I started being more careful around Sunny. Jace didn't seem to notice what she was doing at the time, just looked on her being like I kid I guess. But I sure noticed. I'm still not sure what to think about it.

I never said anything, Jace is old enough that he shouldn't need my help to figure that sort of stuff out but it gave me the heebies. I know it sounds selfish; it did in my head and does even more written out here on this page. But I wonder now that Jace and Sunny have hooked up, where does that leave me? Three is a crowd in the front of a pick up truck.

Mostly I've been too busy though to worry that much. It will be what it will be; I learned that bit of philosophical junk in the city. Besides Jace hasn't exactly given me a lot of reason to worry; at least not so far as I can tell. Then again for the last three nights he's said things like "you're a little too young to understand blah, blah, blah" and I'm thinking that Sunny has finally managed to get what she was after. They'd stay up late sitting practically on top of each other no matter how long I took to go get in the back end of the truck.

Enough of that. No sense in worrying about what I can't change.

Besides fishing and cooking Jace has been going over our orienteering skills. I know what those are after having to listen to Toddie and his friends as they earned their Boy Scout patches. As many times as they used to take me to the park and "lose" me so they could "find" me ... when they remembered to do the finding partof course ... it didn't take me long to pick up that stuff either. Knots were easy as well. Toddie and his friends used to tie me up plenty when they "lost" me in the park. They said it was so I wouldn't move around and really get lost but I heard Dad give Toddie a long lecture about his meanness too often to know there wasn't more to it than that. I suppose I was too dumb of a little sister to tell Toddie no when he would get up to mischief so Dad did what he could and taught me how to escape. That pretty much ended Toddie's reign of terror in my life. Apparently it's no fun when your victim doesn't need rescuing anymore.

Then there were the hunting lessons Jace gave. Definitely more of a challenge for me, and kinda frustrating. I had down the moving around quietly and tying the right kind of knots for the traps. It was knowing where to set the traps that I had to learn. Sunny had Jace to help her every time so she always seemed to get something but the one time I complained about it Jace growled at me and said that if I wanted to be self-sufficient and take care of myself I shouldn't expect him to help me the same way he was helping Sunny; that she needed him more than I did. Maybe she does and maybe she doesn't, I haven't decided if that's true or not yet.

I'm not letting it get me down though; more like I'm using it as a learning opportunity just like with everything else. I know he isn't being fair but I didn't agree to let him get me to Singing Waters because he is fair. He's really good at this hunting stuff and I need to learn. I just wish he wouldn't be so different with me than he is with her but I really don't guess I care anyway. So long as I learn, even if it is harder to learn this way, I'm satisfied. At least he isn't like Toddie about it and always making fun when I fail.

I am pretty sure - not positive mind you but definitely pretty sure - that Sunny isn't as slow about learning this stuff as she acts. She can do it better, she just acts like she needs Jace, and I can see from Jace's face that in a really warped way he needs her to be that way. Nope, Sunny may not be what you call super smart, but she is clever in ways I'm not. More power to her I suppose. I just hope I don't ever get to someplace where I have to act that way to get through life.

And Sunny isn't bad or anything. I read what I just wrote and it makes her sound like a conniving and mean kind of person but she isn't. She can actually be kinda sweet. Trust me, after dealing with the three witches back in school I know mean and conniving. Sunny isn't that way, at least I don't think so. If she was a little older and mouthier she'd remind me a bit of Sherry; one of those tough on the outside but gooey on the inside kind of people. Unfortunately for Sunny I don't think she is tough enough in the right ways.

Sunny and Sherry have the same coloring which is part of it I suppose; and Sunny is the same kinda pretty even though I think she is a little silly for putting on all of that make up when it is only going to draw biting bugs but whatever, it's her skin. There is also something similar in their attitude towards guys. I suppose there are just things I'm not ever going to understand and one of them is girls that need guys to feel like real girls. Should probably add to that list guys that seem to only see the girls that act all limp wristed and needy but oh well. That's life.

Today we spent the day breaking down the last bit of the camp we've put together and getting it packed away. Apropos of nothing - I like that phrase by the way, my 6th grade Language Arts teacher used to use it a lot - a couple of mornings ago Jace suddenly announces that we were leaving and that Sunny would be coming with us. Well I'd kinda been wondering about what Sunny was going to do but it would still have been nice to have been asked my thoughts rather than dictated to. On the other hand it is Jace's truck, I can't exactly pitch a fit about it but I was also told that I'd be sleeping in the cab and that they'd be sleeping the camper from here on out.

"It only makes sense DeeDee. You're a lot shorter and won't be as cramped as I was and this way I can be close by for Sunny. She has nightmares you know."

Uh huh. Maybe she does but then again ...

Anyway, we've spent our last couple of days bringing in all the game and fish we could smoke and dry so we'd have meat on the road. Jace even brought in a deer but it was small and scrawny and looked like it had been living a freaked out life running from puss brains and people alike. Jace said that is why it tasted kinda funny. But beggars can't be choosers. We have canned stuff but Jace said we need to save it for when there is little to no hunting that can be done.

Jace has started to say fewer "you" things and say more "us" things. Which is good I suppose and something I have Sunny to thank for. But I look at our supplies from a cook's eye and see that what was a lot of food for one or two, isn't going to be near as much for three (or more if Jace picks up any more strays). I know Jace has been looking at the supplies too. We used up most of the food that Sunny had in her camp despite piecing it out with fish and stuff. I can see that he has something on his mind. And now instead of sleeping I'm back to wondering if what is on his mind includes me going out on my own earlier and a lot lighter than was originally planned.


	36. Chapter 36

Part Thirty-Six ****

Been a couple of days since I've felt like writing. Got a rotten cold. Been in a rotten mood. I always get a cold this time of the year but it's been really hard to deal with this time because apparently Sunny is a germophobe. Who would have thought it? She seems like an otherwise practical kind of person. It has made driving three in the cab interesting ... or not depending on which end of the "ew!" and "gross!" you are on.

It's not like I'm spewing snot all over the place; I am using a handkerchief for pity sake. And I wash it out every night and dry it so I can start clean the next day. I don't know what her damage is. During the day I'm scrunched up on one side of the seat and Sunny is practically riding in Jace's lap. I offered to ride in the camper but Sunny nearly fainted at the idea of then having to sleep where my germs had been. Well let me tell you, it didn't exactly thrill me to offer to have my germs where she and Jace have been ... er ... sleeping. Ick.

First night we stopped in this place called Plover. It was a little village type place. There were still people around but they were real standoffish and wouldn't let us get too far off the road. They set a guard on us. I could tell some of them were getting a little too interested in what was in the trailer so I made up some story that made it seem like the stuff might be contaminated.

After we got out of there early the next morning Jace tore me a new one shouting in the cab, "You know they could have just decided to kill us or burn us out! Why would you do something so lame brained as letting them think we were all contaminated!"

Trying to be reasonable even if wasn't I told him, "I didn't. A couple of them might have thought it was too big a risk but the rest of them weren't bad people and had some commonsense. They knew I was just BS-ing. The story saved them and us some grief having to deal with the few of their crew pushing too hard and creating a situation."

Jace ground his teeth and snarled, "That makes absolutely no sense."

I shrugged. I knew what I knew and there was no explaining it if he didn't want to listen. "Maybe it didn't make sense to you but it worked."

He snorted, "This time. But you better not pull another stunt like that. You aren't the only one here to worry about. Stop being so selfish. What would Sunny do if she got hung up in something that went sour like this could have?"

I didn't say it but I think Sunny would do just fine. She reminds me a bit of a cat, always landing on her feet.

Needless to say Jace wasn't happy with me for a while. Then he made me angry by saying it served me right to get the cold that started to come on around lunch time of that day. He acted like I'd done something just to put Sunny in danger and was getting my just desserts. Then Sunny started up with her germophobe act and I really got a headache.

I've got to admit some of this is my fault. I wanted Jace for a guard dog ... but I wanted him for my own guard dog. My problem was that I also expected him to think like a people and not just a dog. I'm getting more and more certain I'm going to have to break off and make my own way at some point. I'll hold out as long as I can. The weather looks to be turning bad and I don't want to have to walk or skate in it the rest of the way if I don't have to. Seriously bad timing for this cold anyway. It is almost the beginning of November and the days are getting cold, and the nights even colder.

Last night we didn't get far at all and stopped at this place on the map called Merrill which was just down the road from Wausau. We are stuck there again tonight. Why? Because we finally ran into real military types. I was in the middle of disposing of a puss brain I had put out of its misery when they just sort of walked out of an alley. That was a harry bit of explaining. Now I know how people must have felt when Dad took them in for questioning ... even if you haven't done anything wrong you still feel a little guilty at being caught. Bottom line though is that they aren't going to try and stop us from doing what we planned, they say it isn't their problem if we want to freeze to death this winter.

After following them back to what they called a holding area we were taken to a building to have things explained to us and for them to asked us some questions. The guy I got stuck with reminded me of the school guidance counselor. He was someone I wasn't real fond of since Dad had let slip that Mr. Whorter wasn't all that he should be after hours and I overheard him and Mom talking about Mr. Whorter getting caught in a "sting operation" at some lingerie shop that wasn't strictly a lingerie shop if you catch my drift.

The guy even had a squeaky voice like Mr. Whorter that to me was like fingernails on a chalkboard. "The only thing Miss Phillips is that we need a record of everyone for recovery purposes down the road. Think of it like a census; we trying to ascertain how many uninfected people remain in this country and beyond as well as how many of them are US citizens. We need your name, social security number, and any potential contacts and heirs."

Just cranky enough from my cold to need to act out I told him, "You've got my name. I can't remember my social security number. And all my contacts are dead. And I've never had any heirs. You can torture me I suppose but you'll wind up with the same answer."

The guy - Dr. Something or Other - gave a small smile like he found me funny for some reason and said, "It's not worth the effort to try and force the information out of you Miss Phillips; too much time and work involved when we have other things to do. Besides, I highly doubt you've got anything of that much interest for us to ponder anyway. So, if you'll give me your story we can let that suffice for the other information and be done in just a moment or two. That is what we are doing for most of the children."

I don't appreciate being lumped in with the "children" and was prepared to stick it to him. But I don't know how he did it; he pulled enough of my "story" out of me that he must have started to believe me and certainly take me more seriously. He was really scribbling then stopped and called in a transcriptionist and some guy in a uniform. Every time we got to a name they'd ask me some other questions. "Do you happen to know what Dr. Hanson's first name is? Or any of the other doctors?"

"Nope, not a clue. But Dr. Hanson has a daughter a little older than me named Michelle. Oh, and there was a medical doctor named Maria Riccardo that was part of Dr. Hanson's team but was actually not bad and stuck up for me in a doctor kind of way when the chips were down."

"Hmmm. And about Major Jeffries and the other ranking officers you encountered?"

"Look, I was only there a couple of days and we didn't make the greatest impression on each other. I liked Sgt. Watson but that's about it for the uniform types ... except for Sheriff Berio and his son Lee which I guess might be in the uniform types but not the military type uniforms. Doctor Riccardo was all right like I said, and then there was this young guy named Cochran though I don't know what rank he held or if he even had a rank, but all of the rest of that bunch are pretty much a blur."

They were also busy typing out all I knew of the names of the people that had been in the same group as me in the city and the names of people I'd run across. Or the names of people that I knew for a fact were dead and how I knew they were dead. I didn't know why on earth they wanted to know or how they were going to use the information. One of them mentioned something about it going into a big, national database for cross referencing to try and prevent insurance fraud of all things. It sounded like a lotta work for a little return but I let 'em ramble on.

I did learn by closing my mouth and opening my ears that St. Louis wasn't supposed to be cut off the way it had been; that it had been done by a splinter group of scientists acting on their own based on some wild hair of a hypothesis they had developed. Sounds just about right with what little I know of the group that took over my town. I also found out that at some point they'd probably take my "deposition" and use it as part of the evidence to bring these scientists up on charges of insubordination or crimes against humanity or something along those lines.

Last thing I want to get in the middle of is a long, drawn out court battle. Dad said that they were the worst kind and you never really knew what the outcome would be. The best cases were cut and dry with some form of justice coming swiftly. Given all that has happened I'm beginning to wonder if there is just a thing as justice. You live the best you can. You die the best you can. What comes between the two seems to be mostly down to luck. What comes after is between you and God.

Sunny and Jace had to do their own bunch of talking but apparently not as much as me so they were at loose ends ... which they spent just hanging out with some people their age. When I got cut loose after being asked a bazillion questions, most of which I could just barely answer, I tried to join them but not being eighteen I got shut out. I was "too young." I've probably killed more puss brains than all of those kids put together but that was just not good enough. It was just like being around Toddie's bunch. Some things never change.

But that's why we are stuck here a second night. We are kept separate from the refugee camp. And those that aren't in the camp proper avoid us like we are contaminated. Some act like they are even scared of us ... the same way they are of the uniform types. That makes me uncomfortable. I heard the way some of the guards talk about the people in the camp; it wasn't very flattering. They compare them to sheep and cattle, like they don't have too many brains or are at least not smart enough to think for themselves. One guy said they were so dumb that if someone told them to look up during a rain storm they'd drown.

And the people have to work a lot too ... and not on their schedule but as they are told to. Apparently they've been spending the spring and summer salvaging all of the food, clothing and other things all along the interstate and in other easily accessible places that don't have too many puss brains roaming around. You don't get to volunteer to go on these salvaging trips, you get drafted whether you want to or not. And if you aren't salvaging you are working in gardens, or cleaning, or doing whatever you are told to do, when you are told to do it. Days off are once or twice a month rather than once or twice a week. And you don't get paid. You do this so you can earn credits. These credits are what you use at the cafeteria to eat or to go to the supply house to get clothes or shoes or soap. There's a library you can use the credits at too but most people can barely keep up with feeding themselves and their family; entertainment isn't real high on the priority list.

Sounds like a hard life. But I suppose if all you care about is two meals a day and somebody to protect you from the puss brains that always seem to be popping up then it isn't a bad life. All I know is I wouldn't like it.


	37. Chapter 37

Part Thirty-Seven ****

"We could have stayed. They said we could." Sunny's whining was getting on my nerves.

Jace sighed. "Sunny we've been over this. I promised DeeDee I'd get her where she was going. I owe her."

She turned to me and while pouting she asked, "Why do you want to go to some old camp away from other people anyway? Who will you talk to? Who will you live with?"

I sneezed into my hanky and then looked at Jace but didn't say anything.

She wouldn't let me leave it alone. "Well?"

Sighing I told her, "I'm going where I want to go. If I had stayed in the refugee camp someone else would have always been telling me where to go and when to go and what to do when I got there."

She tossed her head impatiently. "Well that's just stupid. First of all, you're just a kid and kids always have to have people telling them what to do. Gran always said so. Second, there was food there ... no tying knots or digging pits or anything like that; just open a can or box and there you go or better yet stand in a cafeteria line and get waited on. And there were police and real soldiers to keep away the infecteds and the bad people. So what if you had to work or listen to someone tell you what to do? It wouldn't kill you."

I sighed again and just looked out the window. "Sunny, you could have stayed. I told Jace he could stay if he wanted to. Whatever is between you two is none of my business. And whatever Jace thinks he owes me is done and over with."

She tried to turn to Jace but he popped some kind of techno music CD into the truck's stereo and turned it up just loud enough to make talking difficult. Jace is getting a little annoyed with Sunny I think because every time she turned back to start on him again he'd get a little crankier. Or maybe it is the driving that is making him that way. Military types wouldn't let us go any further north, said the road was completely out and that we had to turn west. Well it was west we wanted to go to begin with but the intel on the road we were using could have been a little better. They didn't say they hadn't really gotten around to cleaning it up yet.

It took us all day ... literally all of the daylight hours we had ... to go one hundred miles. The reason why it took so long is obvious when I consider how many times we had to get out and push cars out of our way. We off roaded when we could but it wasn't always possible. The other problem though was that Hwy 58 should have been called Puss Brain Alley. I'm really glad my nose it stuffed up. I've kinda gotten used to not smelling their dirty rotting waste smell. Every one of them could likely have used several days in a rain storm to get some of the mess off of them and clean their clothes and coverings up.

It took a couple of times to get the kinks worked out of how we did things. "Jace, you are the one that has been going on about having a plan before we need one. Well, this is as good a time as any to see if I can make a plan that works so here it is ... when we hit a road block I'll hop out, pop the lock on the car, put it in gear while you cover me. Then I'll stand back and cover you while you push the car out of the way. Sunny stays in the truck, keeps it running and then moves it forward as we make a space."

Jace shook his head. "I don't like you being so exposed. That's isn't the way that I had meant for this to work."

I shrugged a little impatiently. "Jace, you want to babysit me or make sure that I have the experience necessary to stand on my own two feet?" He gave me his patented Jace-is-getting-PO'd look but his growl didn't scare me. "This is the way I lived for a whole year. At least we aren't boxed in like I've been when we were salvaging inside a building. I can do this. I've got your back."

He sadly shook his head. "This is supposed to be the other way around. I'm supposed to have your back."

"You do. I don't see the problem. We're a team. When you are a team you work together and cover for each other ... not only one person carrying all the burden alone."

He wasn't happy about it but he turned practical, I'll give him that. But it seemed that it became doubly important to him that Sunny be taken care of. Fine. Whatever. So long as we kept moving forward.

We are in some place called Bloomer of all things. Puss brains all over the place but kinda different puss brains from the ones I'm used to and even though I'm dying for some sleep I had to get this day off my chest. The puss brains around here still seem to think. Oh not real deep thoughts or anything like that as far as I can tell but they aren't all crazy and violent like the ones I'm used to. Their hunger is driving them just like the others but these infecteds around here ... they're scared of us. Most of them are anyway.

I think they've learned to stay away from trucks and guns. Taught them to stay away from bats today too. And no, I'm not trying to be funny or boastful. I had to put several down and unfortunately I made the mistake of looking one or two of them in the eyes. Somebody was home ... probably not the same somebody they were before they got infected but there was an animal intelligence in a couple of them.

For instance the cold slows them down. Doc thought it was because their metabolism slowed down, sorta the same way that reptiles slow down in the cold. But the puss brains around here, they are putting clothes on. And when they can't find more clothes to wear they'll throw something else on them. I saw one that was wearing a table cloth like a poncho. I'm telling you I'm not sure what to make of it and it bothers me.

Maybe they are stuck betwixt and between ... kinda infected, kinda not. Enough of them did try to chomp on us that I'm not going to change the way I handle puss brains but it does make my feelings hurt over having to destroy them. Makes me wonder if all puss brains are alike or if there is hope for some. Probably wouldn't be many and I don't know how to tell them apart from your run of the mill puss brain.

Maybe it is just too late and I need to stop worrying about it. But it is hard not to. Could there be a cure? Have I been murdering people that could be helped? Am I gonna have to answer to someone at some point? What about Judgment Day?

I just don't want to dream tonight. Please God, just one night without dreams.


	38. Chapter 38

Part Thirty-Eight ****

We turned north this morning and the road is better but not by much. We stopped outside the town of Spooner. I remember the place because Dad always stopped here as it was the last stop before we entered the backcountry. We'd pick up any last minute groceries we needed at this little cash-only grocery store. We'd gas up one last time. Take one last look at "civilization" and then start on the last leg of our trip to the national forest.

Dad said that Main Street in Spooner hadn't really changed since he was a boy. Bet he wouldn't say that now. Every window was either blown out or boarded over. The marquis over what used to be a tiny theater read "The end of the world is here" ... or it would have except for all of the missing letters. The brick buildings were chipped and cracked by what looked like bullets. There was even a truck buried cab-first into the florist shop.

We got into town earlier than expected. We really didn't go far on the road today but we needed a little time to go over the entire truck and trailer and to make sure that we were ready to get about as away from civilization as I've ever been. There are a few more stops we can make the towns aren't much but dots on the map the few that had business districts of any kind were dying even before the world fell apart.

All in all it could be worse to be spending the night here but Sunny just cannot give up her quest to make herself and us just as miserable as she can. "I hate it here. Let's go back."

"Sunny ..."

"Jace, I'm scared."

"Shhhhh. It's all right. I'm here."

Ugh. But to be honest I think Sunny really is scared. She's always lived in the city. She doesn't understand and doesn't like the areas we have been travelling through; these areas aren't like an organized and manicured park. She sure doesn't like the proximity of the puss brains we've seen. In general she is freaking out.

I thought she had just gotten so tired from being freaked out that she went to bed early ... until I saw Jace slide something that looked like a pill bottle into his pocket. He jumped when he saw that I had seen. "She's ... she's ..."

"About to wig out. Yeah, I was pretty much sensing that," I told him and then blew my nose for the eleventy-dozenth time.

Jace looked like he was all prepared to defend himself but then shook his head. "I made a mistake. I thought she ... I thought she was like Clarey."

"Clarey a lightweight in the academic area?"

Rather than a fight about how I phrased it he shrugged. "Depended on the subject. She wasn't like Sunny. Clarey was just ... sweet ... defenseless ... very innocent."

"Which isn't what Sunny is. I mean I'm not saying she isn't nice but ..."

He looked at me from the corner of his eye and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah that pretty much covers it." He sighed. "I couldn't have left her but ... damn ... I've got myself in a real mess now. And dragged you and Sunny along for the ride."

"Whoa Jace. No one dragged me any place. I'm heading the direction I want to go. Whatever you decide to do about Sunny ... well that's your business and between you and her. Don't take this the wrong way but I'm not being pulled into something like that."

"No, that's not what I mean."

"Well, then just ... just get me close to where I mean to go, leave me a few supplies to get me started, and then head on out and ... I don't know ... take her back to that refugee camp she seems to want to stay at so bad."

"That's what she wants me to do. But I promised you ..."

"You've already delivered. To be honest I've been wondering if we'd get this far together. I kinda got the feeling you weren't exactly expecting to hang out over the winter."

He turned troubled eyes to me. "I'm not sure what I was thinking. I'm starting to think now, maybe clearer than I have in a while, and I'm thinking I must be nuts or something. Geez, you're just a kid really. I keep forgetting how young you are because of the stuff that comes out of your mouth." He shook his head. "You can't stay up in the wilderness by yourself no matter how many lessons I give you. You're not just a kid, you're a girl."

I sighed. "Let's not start that again. I don't need a babysitter Jace. It was nice to get a ride. It was great how you've been teaching me stuff and I appreciate it. But I never figured this was going to be a permanent arrangement."

Surprised he asked, "You didn't? Aren't you scared?"

"Kinda. I guess. I'm not sure. I might get that way. Depends on what I find when I finally get to Singing Waters. It's not like I haven't been scared before. As long as you don't let it take over, fear isn't necessarily a bad thing. Dad used to say that fear was a powerful motivator."

Jace nodded. "Let me ... let me think about this. I can't just leave you here alone ... but I can't take being shut up all winter with Sunny either. She'll drive us both crazy."

"Maybe. Or maybe she just needs time to get used to things. Some people don't do well with sudden or fast change. Give her some time and she might come around."

He shook his head. "There isn't much time to give her. Can't you smell it? Feel it? There's snow coming down someplace close by. We'll see it on the ground pretty soon. Wish I had tire chains."

"If wishes were horses ... I forget the rest of that."

Jace shook his head. "Let's check over the truck one more time. If we finish with that maybe we can see what is left in these buildings."

"Probably not much but it's worth a shot." And it was. Two to be exact. Jace put down one puss brain and Sunny another one. I didn't tell them so but I put down three in back of the old theater with my bat. Sunny was already hyperventilating, there was no need for me to make it worse. Jace noticed the fresh blood on the bat but didn't say anything then or later.

Now we are all tucked up and relatively safe. I'm eager for tomorrow. Soon. Sooner than soon. I'll finally know if my dream is still there or not.


	39. Chapter 39

Part Thirty-Nine ****

OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG!


	40. Chapter 40

Part Forty ****

I still don't know how to write all this down. It has been weeks, longer than that maybe, since I've written anything down. Actually I know it has been longer than weeks, I just don't know how much longer. Days go by and they all seem the same. This is better than being in the city but kinda of harder too. OK, not kinda ... it has been harder.

I don't know what made me get the itch to pick up this notebook. Boredom more than likely. But once I picked it up I couldn't seem to put it down. It's like if I write down what has happened I can accept it. I know I have to but it has just been one thing right after another. I guess the only way to really get through this is to just do it. Even if it does make me cry, who is going to care?

I don't know why I'm even bothering. But maybe "journaling" it all out is best after all. For a long time now I've tried not to feel anything at all. Then suddenly I woke up and realized I wasn't just not feeling, I was forgetting how to feel. I know that is not good. If I forget how to feel it won't just be the bad stuff; I'm forgetting how the good stuff feels too. I'm forgetting that there has been good stuff in my life. I'm getting as frozen as the land around me has been. I'm not even sure what the day or date is.

Like Mr. Svenson would say, "The stars aren't out to guide me. Need to make a wind and blow the clouds out of the way."

It all started in Spooner I guess ... or maybe it was Ploomer where Sunny started thinking about what she was missing or dissatisfied with what she'd got into or something. Or maybe it started when Jace started to realized he'd bit off a lot, or that jumping into bed for comfort or to be comforted by Sunny was a mistake, or maybe for Jace it started long before that. Yeah, for Jace it started way before that. All I do know is that Spooner, such as it was, was the last bit of peace I've had for a while.

This beginning stuff is hard and I've got a trap line to walk. I'm going to have to write some more on this some other time.


	41. Chapter 41

Part Forty-One ****

Spooner, WI. Main Street USA. The end of the beginning or the beginning of the end or some other stupid way of saying it marked a bad spot in the road. I'm not thinking too clearly. Late season blizzard is roaring outside and I can hardly hear myself think. I think this is a blizzard. Maybe it is just a storm. Maybe it isn't late season and the snow keeps going and going and going ...

Enough. The whole point of writing this out is to get control of the bugs crawling around in my head, not give them free rein.

Spooner. That's where we spent the night. We salvaged a few odds and ends from the town but not much. There wasn't that much left to salvage, certainly no food items. But we did find make up and Sunny had a fit and a bunch of fun picking out what she wanted to take. I started to remind her that Jace had said we had to be choosy because we were running heavy as it was.

"That's alright," Jace said over the top of me. "Just remember Sunny, take off all the packaging."

"Why?"

Patiently he explained to her, "So that it fits in the smallest space possible."

Thinking about it I saw the lightbulb go on when she figured it out. "Oh! Sure thing Jace." And then Sunny was finally sunny once again.

I went back to looking for anything useful in the back of the drugstore but looked up when Jace took my elbow and pulled me out back into the alley.

I asked, "What?"

He inhaled like he was going to say something then stopped, shook his head and then started again. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For not making a scene. I ... I know. I just couldn't handle Sunny pouting and throwing a fit again today."

I shrugged. "She isn't a kid. You can't count on this working every time like it would with a kid." Carefully I looked at him and reminded him, "She isn't your Clarey and she isn't Sammy either. She's shook up but she strikes me as someone that could be alright if she has ... you know ... structure."

"Mebbe." Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic store bag. "Here."

I took it gingerly and then looked inside. "Why?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "I know you don't wear war paint but ... I don't know ... I figured this ... look, you need some anyway."

Sunny picked that moment to come find us. She saw the two of us and asked suspiciously, "What's going on?"

I reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of an expensive brand of lip gloss and chapstick. I held them up for Sunny to see and said, "Lecture time." When she looked only half way relieved I asked her, "Did that lipstick you pick up have UV protection in it? Jace said unless I want to look like I've been sucking on a lemon for three years I better start using this stuff."

Then Sunny got all puffed up and said, "He's right. And we should make sure you have something for your hair. You are starting to look like you are wearing a rat's nest on your head. And your skin ... you aren't broke out but you are dried out and are starting to get chapped and scaly looking." As Sunny dragged me back into the store Jace gave me a grateful look for my bit of misdirection. Yeah, it was a lie. I know it. Part of me is sorry for it but I also admit that a good part of me is not. Especially in hindsight.

After about an hour Jace said we needed to get going. The frost had melted and we were very close to being overloaded. The only good thing about running heavy is that the wind was less likely to blow us off the road. Sunny looked back at the rest of the stores along Main Street regretfully, like she would have really liked to have stayed and continued to explore, but she did get into the truck. She did ask to sit by the window instead of next to Jace.

Jace - looking worried - asked her, "You ok Sunny?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Just want a little fresh air and that bump thing in the middle keeps hitting my knee."

"You should have said something earlier. We would have made sure ..."

Sunny shook her head. "No. I'm fine. I just have cramps."

Jace colored up at that and let it go really fast. I gave her a knowing girl look. Make up wasn't the only thing that Sunny had been salvaging for in the drug store and we agreed to split what we did find between us. It looked like it was going to be a better day. Little did any of us know.


	42. Chapter 42

Part Forty-Two ****

"Road is clear, not even a wreck on the side of the road," I observed as we drove slowly along.

"Yeah. That's ..." Jace's voice trailed off.

"That's what?"

"Strange. It just looks like everyone stayed home. Like a Sunday morning."

I snorted. "Not where I come from. The only reason you didn't go to church on Sunday morning was if you were making funeral plans ... preferably your own." I decided to exercise some of the mental muscles he'd been wanting me to build. "How's this as a hypothesis? We are up here in an area where people would have tried to evacuate to if there had been something bad happen. What if the people that were already here just decided to stay put ... not go out on the road?"

Jace thought about it and then looked at Sunny briefly before saying, "Sounds plausible. Most of the little places up this way are rentals or second homes. Maybe the people that would normally been up this way couldn't make it. Or they were evacuated before they could get here. Everyone keep your eyes out. If there are still people home up here they might not want strangers to come visiting uninvited."

We hadn't gone far when Sunny said, "We need to stop."

"Why? What did you see?"

"Huh?"

I looked at Jace but he still had the blank look of a clueless guy. Finally I had to jab him in the ribs and give him "the look."

"Oh. Oh! Uh ... uh ... yeah." He paused and asked, "Right now?"

Sunny shrugged and said, "A girl has needs."

Jace's face flamed again for some reason reminding me of Lee more than he ever had. All the girls in school knew that Lee was very easy to embarrass; all they had to do was raise female personal hygiene issues and he would practically run or puddle if he couldn't get away fast enough.

We had only gone about twenty miles and were at this little place called Stone Lake. Sign said there were approximately 700 year 'round residents, so when I say little I mean it was little. But as we got out of the truck I would have said it felt more like a population of zero. It wasn't but it felt that way.

We gave Sunny some privacy to take care of herself at a pit toilet near the lake. She came out and we debated looking through some of the homes that we could see on the hillsides surrounding the lake. They looked like nice places. Many of them looked like wood chalets.

Jace sighed. "I'd like to but it looks like snow. We need to get as far as we can. I don't want to get snowed in while we are still on the road."

I looked at Jace. "Snowed in? You mean we could get stuck someplace before we get to Singing Waters?!"

He nodded. "That's exactly what I mean. Let's get in the truck." He turned to Sunny and asked with a squeak in his voice, "You OK to go?"

She nodded. "Geez. It's just girl stuff. Don't flip a switch. Let's go. Now that I'm outta that smelly out house I can even smell the snow on the wind. Can't you?"

I couldn't but Jace nodded like he knew exactly what she was talking about. As a matter of fact I still couldn't smell anything. If I had ... if I only had.


	43. Chapter 43

Part Forty-Three ****

We got into the truck and Jace said, "Buckle up."

He had no sooner put the truck in gear than there was a crash on the passenger glass window and a hand tried to reach in and grab Sunny. We all yelled ... or I thought we'd all yelled. Jace floored the gas and we were slipping and sliding around only to discover we were surrounded.

I screamed, "Just run over them Jace! Just run over them and get out of here before they pile on the trailer!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do?!"

We started bouncing around up the road away from the lake and I could feel the trailer pulling us this way and that though I didn't know what it was at the time. I could see that Jace was really struggling with the steering wheel. Struggling to keep the puss brains from holding onto the hood and other parts of the truck and trailer.

"Find me a hole DeeDee!" he yelled.

I looked and then pointed as a small gap in the horde opened up. We were finally free of them. It was still two or three miles before the last puss brain let go and fell off. Jace actually had to shoot the last one off as it tried to come in his side window. Cold air filled the cab. The truck was shuddering. Jace was shuddering. I was shuddering. And so was Sunny.

"Are you ok?"

Sunny was turned away from me. I though she was just scared or something. I repeated the question and then pulled slightly on her shoulder. She fell backwards toward me. Her eye was wide and staring. What I had thought was shuddering was actually some kind of seizure. A sliver of sharp wood had been thrust into her right eye by the first puss brain that attacked us. I was having a hard time believing what I was seeing for a lot of reasons but primarily because the puss brains had become smart enough in a group, or the one that had attacked the window wasn't so far gone, that a tool was used. I'd never seen anything like it and I'd seen a lot of puss brains. If that was the norm all of a sudden we were in some serious trouble.

Jace glanced to his right, looked back through the windshield, then jerked his head back to the right and stared horrified.

"JACE! Look out! Watch the road!"

We hit a bad place in the road and that pulled Jace's attention back to the road. He hunched around the steering wheel and drove like a flock of demons was after him while I did what little I could. I knew all I could do was stop the bleeding and hold her hand until Jace found a safe place to pull into.


	44. Chapter 44

Part Forty-Four ****

There were no good places to pull off. Trust me, we both looked. All we could do was keep driving. We did stop long enough for me to jump out and get plastic and duct tape to try and do something about the freezing cold air coming in the windows.

I jumped back in the cab and Jace was holding Sunny and muttering to her. I couldn't understand what he was saying. I should have tried to do something more for him, for both of them, but I was too busy trying to get the repairs done quickly so we could keep going.

"She's not dead Jace," I told him when he finally put the truck in gear again.

"Not yet," he answered in a papery voice.

"Maybe not at all. I don't know yet. There wasn't that much blood. The ... the wood thing even just fell out on its own. The wound will need to be cleaned out but I can't do that yet. Her pulse is jumping all over the place but it is still there. I ... I think this is shock or something. I've got her bundled up the best I can. We just need to find some place we can stop. Until then ... just drive."

Like I wrote though, there weren't any good places to stop. Two hours later, two agonizing hours, we finally pulled into Ojibwa State Park. It was a little place that straddled a small piece of Hwy 70 right at the Chippewa River. Jace pulled right up to the Welcome Center and after we checked the place out - and I broke us in by crawling through a small window in the staff restroom - we carefully got Sunny out of the truck and laid her in front of a wood stove.

Jace jumped and nearly hysterical yelled, "Dammit! There's no wood!"

As calmly as I could I told him, "Yes there is. There is a lean to out back. I saw it just a minute ago."

Doc - and I hadn't thought of him in a while though I suppose his inadvertent lessons will always be with me to some extent - had always said that being calm was sometimes the best medicine you could give someone. After getting Sunny out of the truck and really looking at the wound I had become convinced there was nothing I could do for her. What I had originally thought were tears of pain weren't. It was some kind of fluid leaking from behind the eye socket. I won't go into the gross parts. Suffice it to say that I had to clean the ruined and dead tissue out to prevent infection.

I don't know if I was being calm or cold. What I do remember is being less concerned that Sunny was going to die and more concerned about whether or not she was infected and wouldn't. I had no idea what kind of goo, if any, had been on the wood that had been used by the puss brain.

After bringing in a pile of wood and getting the fire going Jace all but collapsed. It reminded me of how he was after Sammy and John-John died. As minutes turned into hours and the day faded away I became more worried about him than about Sunny.

"It's my fault," he mumbled.

Those were the first words he'd spoken since he'd gone looking for the firewood.

"No it's not," I told him offering what little comfort I could come up with.

"Yeah. Yeah it is. Everyone that I promise to look after dies."

"I'm not dead," I reminded him.

"For how long?"

Nothing I could say after that could induce him to speak again. He refused to eat the soup I fixed. I had to keep draping a blanket around his shoulders to ward off the cold that was seeping in. If you took more than a few steps away from the stove you could see your breath. I couldn't sleep, I was too wired. I'd also found a stash of colas and had warmed one up to drink - caffeine and memories of my mom doing this flooded my brain and kept me occupied on something beside the silent lump that Jace had turned into.

About midnight Jace finally sat up and said, "You know, you're right. You aren't dead."

I blinked at him more and more worried at how he was acting. "No kidding," I told him wondering what was going on.

But then he started acting more normalish. "I ... I've taught you almost everything I know. Now it is just a matter of practice."

"Not everything. You still said I've got more work at navigating by the stars. And my trap placement needs some serious work. You also said you were going to teach me how to fish with a basket."

"That's nothing," he said with a more optimistic shrug than I'd seen in a while. "Practice and a half way decent book will make sure you get that down."

"You can learn this stuff from books?"

"Sure," he said. He wasn't grinning but he wasn't grimacing either. He was tucking a blanket more firmly around Sunny and brushing the hair off her face. What else could either one of us do? Death was a fact of life even before puss brains became the top predator in the world. I was just glad to see he was trying to accept reality and not off in la-la land. When he spoke again he said, "I thought you said your brother was a Boy Scout. They have all of these manuals for that sort of stuff."

"Yeah, I know. But my brother's troop always had real people come in and demonstrate or teach them so that they could sign off on the paperwork for the badge. Or they would go to camp and learn from an older scout. That sort of thing."

"Look, it isn't that hard," he said getting up and walking over to a display case of books. Using a small pen light he looked at their spines and then grabbed a few and brought them back. He also snagged something from behind the register.

He tossed the books in my lap and then took the something - which turned out to be a package of cocoa - and poured it and some hot water I had in our kettle out of habit into a mug.

"Open that one up that is on top. See? All sorts of instructions for constellations and how to identify and use them. And two of those books are on backcountry hiking and camping skills. What I haven't covered should be in those books. You don't need to overthink stuff, you just need to make sure that you pre-think stuff."

"Pre-think?" I asked as I sipped his peace offering of cocoa.

"Yeah. Like having a plan before you need one." He sat down beside Sunny again but reached back and pulled a pillow off the bench there and threw it to me. I put it between my back and the wooden column I was leaning against and got a little more comfortable.

Then Jace continued. "Some people survive because of dumb luck but not as many as the movies make it out to be. And then you have a few people that are uber-survivalists that can survive just about anywhere you drop them into. But mostly survival isn't about the equipment you have so much as the equipment you already have," he said tapping his forehead. "Pre-think something before you put your foot in it."

Rephrasing what he said I told him, "Think before you act."

"Exactly. But don't think something to death either. Think, then use what you know, and get it done. Trying to gather too many supplies or make a different plan for every situation imaginable is just as much a recipe for disaster as not thinking at all. Keep a basic pack with you at all times, even just walking around camp. Then when something happens you'll have the basic skills and basic equipment to formulate a plan through quick thinking. Got it?"

I yawned. "Yeah. I think so."

I leaned forward to put another log on the fire but he stopped me and said, "I'll do it. Why don't you take a break, or at least zone for a while. I'll ... I'll take care of Sunny. It's the least I can do."

"Don't Jace. Don't make this about you ... or me. It just is. Bad things happen. And sometimes ... sometimes people leave our lives. It isn't a matter of fault or blame or anything. It just is the way it is."

He looked at me for a long time before nodding. "I can see why you would think like that. Part of me is glad you do." We were quiet for a few more moments and I started to slide deeper into my coat.

"Get some rest DeeDee. You're going to need it. Tomorrow you learn to drive."

That woke me up. I sat up and asked, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. I should have taught you before now. I just didn't want to admit that ..."

"That what?"

"Nothing. Just get some rest. I'll take care of Sunny."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm sure."

I hadn't meant to sleep. It wasn't 'til later that I realized why I had suddenly gotten so tired when I had been so wired just moments earlier.


	45. Chapter 45

Part Forty-Five ****

I was freezing. I mean really, really freezing. The end of my nose felt like an ice cube. When I rubbed it, it hurt, close to frostbite.

Then something penetrated and I jumped awake. "Jace! We let the fire go out!"

My next thought was of Sunny and what the cold might have done to her. I turned, expecting to see her corpse and Jace watching her in a catatonic state like he had been after Sammy. But there was no Sunny. And there was no Jace.

I called frantically, "Jace!" Then I remembered to turn the voice down in case there were puss brains around.

The first thing I thought of course was that Sunny had been infected. Like Dad would have said, I wasn't running on all cylinders. I couldn't figure out if she'd been infected how she'd been so quiet about getting away. Then I worried that if she had been infected somehow she'd gotten Jace or maybe Jace had figured out what was going on and had gotten her out of the building to try and save me. Again though I couldn't figure out how it had happened but I wasn't ready to discount anything since the puss brains up here had been acting different than the ones that I had run into in the city.

I was almost dizzy when I stood up. Between fatigue and cold it was a real job to get out from under the covers that someone - presumably Jace - had wrapped me in. And that fact went into the basket of things I was currently not understanding.

I stumbled towards the door, juggling my bat and taking the gloves out of my pocket and putting them on. I stopped myself from just charging outside; I gently pulled back the heavy drapes that covered the front windows. The light was incredibly bright partly because the sun was reflecting off of the snow that covered the ground. The snow was no longer a light dusting; there was a good six to eight inches of the white stuff everywhere I looked. It was piled even deeper in a couple of places which meant that it must have blown as well as just come down. And from the porch and moving around the front of the truck was what could only have been drag marks.

There were no other marks just that one continuous drag that looked like what was left behind when Toddie would pull me along on our snow saucer. It was easier for him to pull me along than for him to wait for me to try and keep up. It was one of the few win-win situations which entailed work that he didn't complain about. He would still dump me in the snow, or send me down before I was ready, when we got to the top of the hill but even that was more of a joke we would both laugh at than real meanness on his part.

I shook my head then to clear the cobweb of memories out and I've found myself having to do the same thing again now. Transcribing what happened then, it is like draining a festering sore. I know it needs to be done but it is gross and more than a little painful, reminding me over and over how I got the wound to begin with.

Rather than exiting the front door I ran to the back employee area and looked out the windows there. No tracks. Ran to a window on either side and no tracks there either. Finally I decided whatever the action was had only happened on the front porch and moved away. I carefully exited and used whatever I could to hide me the best I could as I moved forward. The most confusing of all the clues I was gathering was seeing Jace's coat hung neatly on the driver's side mirror. That made less sense than all the rest of it put together. It was freezing outside, in the teens or low 20s at the most. I looked around but nothing was clearing the mystery up.

The snow next to the Welcome Center was pristine white as was the track, whatever caused it; but, as I cautiously followed it along I realized that a slight pink tinge began to show in places. Drawing on my experience growing up with a brother that wasn't afraid to wrestle in the snow, as well as what I'd seen in the city, I quickly came to the conclusion that that particular pink on white could only come from red ... in other words blood. There wasn't a lot of it but I could tell that it was smeared rather than drops. The pink became darker and more distinct the further along the trail I followed.

I looked around and realized the trail was heading towards a boat ramp. What the heck? There wasn't a lot of cover between where I was and where the trail ended, nor was the snow deep enough to hide something people sized. There were trees but no tracks toward them or away from them ... just the drag mark I was following.

At the top of the boat ramp was a boulder just big enough to dent a boat trailer and just small enough to hide in a driver's blind spot. Based on all the scrapes on it I surmised I wasn't the only person to have ever noticed what a pain the bolder likely was. But for the moment the only thing I cared about was what was sitting on top of the boulder.

Just to make sure it wasn't a trap I inched my way over carefully. Back in the sitting some of the gangs would bait traps in the same way. I moved the rock holding the pile of stuff down just enough to pull out the paper and started to read.


	46. Chapter 46

Part Forty-Six ****

DeeDee,

By the time you get this it will be too late. Dumb way to start a note like this but it's true. There's no way you can stop this or me. No way I'm going to let you stop me. I drugged the cocoa. You'll be upset about that for a while but you'll see that it was best.

Sunny died. You knew she would regardless of what you said. I knew she was going to die too; it was just a matter of time. Being dead isn't the bad part. It's the suffering to get there that I hate. She had one last seizure before she finally gave up. It was bad. I held her until she died and the look on her face was like she was grateful that it was finally over. Just picture my face looking the same way.

Things have been wrong for so long. Ever since Clarey died. I know I wouldn't talk to you about her much but that is because it was sacred. You could never have understood Clarey without having met her. Poor Clarey ... and it was my fault. I was trying to force her to be someone she wasn't. She was so scared that morning and I made her watch the truck anyway and walked away to try and do some hunting. By the time I came back it was too late. She didn't get a big dose so it took her a while to really show the symptoms but she knew they were coming. And the pain ... she knew by the pain what was coming too.

In the end I took care of her death and burial better than I ever took care of her while she was alive. I wasn't good enough for Clarey and no matter how I've tried to redeem myself since I'm still not good enough. Uncle Simon, Sammy, John-John ... they all died when they shouldn't have. They wouldn't have died if I had just figured out what was going on. At the very least Sammy and John-John would have still been here if I'd done what I said I was going to, what had felt like the right thing to do at the time ... burn down that damn house. But I didn't. I wasn't strong enough or smart enough and Sammy - half crazy Sammy - managed to fool me.

Now Sunny. I had a third chance and I still failed. And not just because I couldn't teach her what she needed to know but I failed Clarey by jumping into bed with a girl I barely knew and who probably barely knew what she was doing herself.

They all suffered. Every one of them. And now there's you. You're not dead ... not yet ... but I've given it some thought and the only reason you aren't is because you never really needed me to begin with. You could have learned what I taught you from anyone ... you already know how to fish. Like I said, the rest will come to you with practice.

I have a confession. I didn't teach you to drive because I wondered if I did would you simply take off one day and not look back. I know you aren't like that ... at least now I do ... but in the beginning I wondered and worried. That's my one regret. But it isn't rocket science and the truck is an automatic. Just take it nice and slow and you'll be fine. With November finally here with the snow, the puss brains will be too slow to hassle you much. You'll do fine.

And now I'm gonna go do what I probably should have done a long time ago. But this water and the cold will suit me better. I've heard drowning isn't a bad way to go after you put your mind to it. And the cold will sap my will to fight the inevitable pretty quickly. The current is still running good in the middle of the river here even if the shore is freezing up a bit. The snow has shredded Sunny's clothes ... and her skin ... but she isn't feeling it any longer. But I'm going to take her with me. I don't want to leave you to bury her with the ground all frozen. I can at least do that.

I know you are probably going to think I'm a jerk and I know in a way I'm breaking my promise to you. But it can't be helped and I really don't care anymore. I can't ... won't ... go on this way another moment. My mind is made up and it is time to leave this hell of a life I've been living.

Jace


	47. Chapter 47

Part Forty-Seven ****

I remember feeling empty ... a feeling that hasn't left me yet, not completely. I carefully folded the note and stuck it in my pocket and it stayed there for a long time. Until this morning in fact. I don't know what I was holding onto it for. But when I needed something to light the fire in the wood chips so I could cure the next round of meat, I pulled it out, twisted it, and it worked just as good as a twist of Mr. Svenson's collection of trail maps he had collected for toilet paper. Now there's a man who personifies the idea of having a plan before you need one.

The rest of the stuff on the boulder was their clothes. Sunny's and Jace's. I just stood there looking at the pile. I'm sure he expected me to just pick them up and put them in the supplies in the truck but I didn't. For all I know they are still sitting right there on that big rock. Or maybe someone who needed them took them. Right now I don't even care if it was a puss brain that did it. There was no way I was just going to calmly gather their clothes and keep going.

I turned my back on the water. I knew I'd never find any sign of them. Doc explained to me about suicides after we had a couple in our group during the early days. He said that most suicide attempts were just calls for help. Those types usually made a way out for themselves or had a lifeline like someone who would rescue them or stop them just in time. But there was a small group of suicides that meant to do exactly what they were doing and were in fact so determined that they made sure that there was no way out for them. I'm not explaining it right or with much compassion I'm sure; it just still makes me angry.

I never figured Jace would do what he did. Oh I worried but at the worst I thought he'd be the "cry for help" type, but even that barely crossed my mind. Especially after Sunny came along and gave him someone to really take care of again. Some people are like that, they need to take care of someone else even if it doesn't make for a very healthy relationship. I don't know why that is, just that it is.

I also don't know why I turned into someone that doesn't want someone else taking care of me. I used to be that way. I never wanted to leave Dad or Mom. But I was a child then. I guess I lost whatever that means. I'm not all that much older now but Dad and Mom seem so far away and then I learned I couldn't count on anyone to stay. Eventually everyone leaves even if they don't mean to.

What has been the hardest to accept, a connection I'd barely wanted to admit to myself, was that both Jace and I knew how it felt to have everyone leave us. What I'll never understand is why, knowing how much that hurt, he had to just pick up and leave me with nothing but a note that didn't answer a blasted thing. I know I'm not much but I can be a really good friend. I never would have left him in the lurch, never left him to suffer life as a puss brain, never just chosen to leave like nothing else mattered.

Yeah, that's the part that has hurt the most. I've learned to live with it like I've learned to live with everything else. But I'll never understand it. Never. And I'll never say that it was ok what he did.

Everyone eventually leaves, that's a fact that can't be changed.


	48. Chapter 48

Part Forty-Eight ****

It was when I put my foot on the bottom step to walk back into the Welcome Center that I connected what he had said the previous night with what he'd said in his going away letter.

You need your rest, you'll be learning to drive tomorrow.

He hadn't said, "I'll teach you tomorrow." Why hadn't I noticed how he'd phrased it? How stupid could I be? How did I miss all the obvious signs? I thought more than once that he acted like some of the troubled people in the group I was part of in the city. I just assumed ... geez, what is that old saying about assuming anything? Well I certainly felt like a backside for a while. That's one of the reasons I decided to stop feeling anything, it was certainly less painful. I suppose hindsight is 20/20 but I could see his suicide wasn't a spur of the moment thing or at least didn't appear so. I wondered how long he had been planning it. Had Sunny interrupted his plans and confused them for a while? Was that the reason from suddenly changing from the "you" to the "us"? I still don't have the answers to these questions. I've mostly stopped asking them. Does that make me a bad person?

That morning though I was asking those questions over and over again in my head. It was like a ghosted audio feed that was hidden beneath a television show I was watching. Added to that was a sudden fear that I hadn't ever really felt before. For the first time I was well and truly alone. I'd had Sherry before I had even known about the loss of Mom and Dad and Toddie. Then there had been Moses and Doc and all the rest of them such as they were; some of them might have been creeps but they were still people. I'd been briefly alone between the city and home but I was in familiar territory and it wasn't dangerously cold. Before I had even gotten home there'd been Sgt. Watson and soon after that Lee and the Sheriff and even Doctor Ponytail had been somewhat on my side. But out here there was no one. Dead silence, both figurative and literal, pounded against my ears.

I turned back toward the river. I can admit it now but not then. For maybe half a second I thought about taking the easy way out and joining Jace but then I thought of meeting up with Dad and Mom and even Toddie in the up above and the thought of trying to explain myself shredded the other thought into nothingness. I did go over to Jace's jacket and rummage through the pockets. Sure enough the key for the truck was there in his inside pocket where I'd always seen him put it.

I almost threw his jacket on the ground like it and he meant nothing to me but then stopped. Not because I was being sentimental but because it was heavy and warm and would help with the cold where the side windows were broken. My first act of separating my emotions from my rational brain. The one thing I did that might be said to be spiteful was that I threw that bag of makeup that Sunny had collected into the trash bin. If anyone wanted it they could fish it out; I didn't want to have anything to do with it. I'm still not sure what I had against it, just made me mad for some reason.

Then I pulled the gas cans out of the back of the truck and filled the gas tank with the last of the fuel. I knew that there was no more where that came from. I would have to make it with what I had left one way or the other. Knowing that motivated me to stop, get ahold of myself, and prepare to move on. I'd been left once again. Now I was all I had left ... and God; but, at the time He was a distant concept I associated with Sunday School parties and mandatory holiday services. When I thought of God it was that He was up in Heaven sitting on His throne and pretty uninterested in the stupid humans He'd created and become disappointed in. On that day I'd never felt more alone in my life.

I've learned since then that I didn't know what really being alone meant. If I had known then what I know now I don't think I could have continued ... or maybe it's would have, I'm not sure. I've come nearer to death on several occasions than I ever came in the city; some of those times through inadvertent kindness. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that had I known then what I know now I would have simply shut down, sat down right on that porch, and given up. But I didn't know so I didn't just sit down. Instead I kept putting one foot in front of the other, somehow determined to survive what felt like a betrayal.

I put the empty cans back in the trailer ... I don't know why, I just did ... and went inside to wipe my hands where some gas has splashed. I still couldn't smell much but I could smell the gas so it gave me hope that my sinuses were clearing up. I grabbed a box of tissue from behind the information desk, looked at what I was doing, then decided to look around the Center more to see if there was anything else that might be worth the trouble. Because if I was out of fuel it was less than likely that I'd be travelling this way again. Not to mention I was not all that eager for my first driving experience to be in snow.

In the staff area I found and pulled out all of the paper products and cleaning supplies. There was also a big first aid kit on the wall that I emptied and another portable one in a supply cabinet that looked like something that Doc would have given an organ to have. Next were the books that Jace had tossed in my lap the night before and I took a few more besides that. Opening what I thought was a janitor's closet I discovered where they kept all the extras of things that were out on the shelves to sell.


	49. Chapter 49

Part Forty-Nine ****

The books haven't just been practical, they've been entertainment to give me something to do with the hours when I am shut in due to storm or some other reason. Some have taught me to cook the stuff around here. Books like _Wisconsin Wildfoods_ , _Venison: Fast and Foolproof Recipes_ , _Sweetened Dried Cranberry Cookbook_ and _Northwoods Cottage Cookbook_. Some have been educational like _Catching Big Fish on Light Tackle_ , _Grouse and Woodcock Hunting_ , and _Exploring Trout Streams_. And others were simply entertainment like a couple of "diaries" from deer camps, biographies of famous people of Wisconsin, the Little House series of books, and a beat up copy of the cases of Sherlock Holmes that must have belonged to one of the staff.

There were some novelty food items too. I lost what little appetite I'd had packing away a case of Pickled Poultry Paradise samplers ... containing garlic and onion pickled eggs, super-hot pickled eggs, original flavor pickled eggs, and the piece de resistance pickled turkey gizzards. I figured if nothing else I could use the turkey gizzards as bait but it turned out that my learning curve was so steep in the beginning that turkey gizzards saved me from starvation for protein. Then there was a case of little bottles of maple syrup. When I say those bottles were little I mean they were little; I'd seen Toddie put more syrup on one stack of pancakes than what each of those bottles held.

They'd already gotten their holiday items in and I found a box full of what I thought were bricks but turned out to be "Granma Ramsey's Brandy Soaked Fruitcakes." I took them thinking they were bound to be stale but that they might be worth something. Worth something? Yeah, one of those things saved my life by keeping a bear busy long enough that I could actually sight on the thing and shoot it. Yeah, I've learned to use a gun when absolutely necessary. I'm still not real good at it but even a bad shot with a gun is a heck of a lot better than going against a bear with only an aluminum baseball bat.

The rest of the food was the kind of thing you'd expect to see in this state: honey and honey flavored condiments, cheese spreads, quince and apple flavored stuff, cranberry stuff, and some smoked and canned meat products like elk and fish. Nothing that would give me the kind of sustenance that I would need to survive winter; but, it would make what I could hunt for myself a little more appetizing that stringing unseasoned meat on a stick. I took everything but the packaged smoked meat as most of that had gone over and was looking pretty furry and gross.

I wasn't finished with my casual raiding. I also took some t-shirts and other things in my size. I knew from bitter experience in the city that keeping things clean was gonna get interesting, washing clothes was even more interesting, and that most clothes couldn't stand up to that kind of abuse for long. I looked through the stuff that the staff had left in the back but nothing was my size. Girls used to ooo and ahhh over how small my feet are but let me tell you, finding shoes that didn't look like they belonged on a babydoll could be a challenge. I wore flip flops and sandals when I could get away with it but that was not going to work here in the woods and I knew it, especially not in winter.

I had ... maybe still have ... a bad habit of when something gets too hard to think about I just shelve it and assume that somehow, some way it is going to get taken care of. Well I did the same thing with the shoes and I wish with all my heart that there was a shoe store some place close by. Maybe if there was I wouldn't have had to steal a new to me pair of shoes off of the body of a dead little girl. How sick is that?

I wound up having to stick some of the stuff I had found in the passenger side floor board because I couldn't get another thing squished into the trailer. I barely got the doors closed and even wound up leaving one of the empty gas cans behind when it wouldn't even fit in the camper top space of the truck. I was hoping I wouldn't have to sleep in the truck but I wasn't for sure at that point. Jace's warning about being an over packer played through my head but then I ignored it. At the time I was still too mad at him to listen to anything his memory had to tell me. I got away with it that time, but just barely.

Then I looked and realized how late in the day it had gotten. It took me a moment to decide whether I was going to go or stay. In the end I decided to risk it and go. Nearly got myself killed doing that.


	50. Chapter 50

Part Fifty ****

I already knew how to start the truck up. Toddie had let me start Dad's truck up a few times. He wasn't doing it to be cool to his little sister, he did it to annoy Dad only I didn't realize I was being used as a tool at the time. Toddie could be real stupid and once Mom explained what was going on - because of course Dad wouldn't because he knew I thought it was a big deal - I stopped letting Toddie use me.

I swear, the way I talk about my brother you'd think he was a complete jerk and that he wasn't worth much at all. That's not true. He was just different, or maybe he wasn't. He was the only brother I had so I don't have anyone else to measure him by in that respect.

Most of what he did in life came so easy to him that it was like he had to make other parts of his life harder than they needed to be to make up the difference. Toddie wasn't all bad. Last time he came home for Christmas he brought me this really pretty t-shirt from his college. It was one in the latest style and I knew it must have cost more than we had agreed to spend on each other. I loved that stupid shirt and that afternoon I put it on, shoved my new earbuds in my ear so I could listen to the kind of music that drove my parents nuts without upsetting them too much and went down the street to show both gifts to my friend Christy Montgomery. Coming back I was walking down the sidewalk, earbuds still firmly crammed in my ears, and when I got closer to the house I waved at Dad and Toddie who were outside throwing a baseball around and generally not having a fight for the first time in a long time.

Suddenly both Dad and Toddie start running at me and I didn't have any time to think how strange that was when I feel a really hard bump that sent me face first into a snow drift in Mrs. Cridlebaugh's bushes. I still didn't know what happened enough though my buds had fallen out in flight and suddenly Toddie and Dad were there making too much noise to be understood. A lot of other people that had been outside their houses were screaming and yelling too. Then Toddie dropped me back in Dad's arms and I watched him climb the hood of a car that was sitting where I had just been walking and he pulled Bart Schwartz out through the window and was beating the snot out of him. It took Dad and three of the other neighborhood men to pull him off. Bart used to be one of Toddie's best friends in high school until he started hanging out with people even Toddie thought were too wild. Bart had been doping up and the only thing that saved me was that the spin he went into on the icy road slowed him down enough that he barely grazed me. See, that's what I mean ... Toddie could be difficult and kinda too smart for his own good but I think he was still a half way decent brother. And maybe he would have grown out of all the bad stuff if he'd just had the chance. But I guess we never know when the last chance we've been given is the last chance we'll ever have.

Geez ... memories. I don't know whether it sucks to pull them out and look at them or whether it is helping. I know it hurts but I'm starting to remember some of the good stuff too. Like that stupid learning to start the car thing. But however I learned to do it, I learned and I guess in the end for whatever reason the episodes served their purpose.

Coming back to the present ... or at least what was the present back then ... I started the truck up, moved it from P to D and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. It took me a couple of miles to figure out why it felt like I was being pushed and pulled all over the road despite there not being any wind ... it was the trailer. I kept driving but it was a long time before I stopped over compensating.

I was concentrating so hard that I missed the turn off to the campground and had to go down the road a piece to find some where I could turn around. Driving the forest road was nerve wracking. I bounced and got turned around twice but finally I made it to Singing Waters ... only there was a chain across the entrance road. And three men standing there with rifles. I remember my guts suddenly feeling like they were full of water. I had known it was possible but I'd never really planned for it. I'd thought Jace would be there with me ... only he wasn't ... and I was left facing a very uncertain future.


	51. Chapter 51

Part Fifty-One ****

The first man yelled, "Stop! Get out of the vehicle!"

"No! Don't get out of the vehicle!" the second man contradicted. Then quickly looking at the other two he said, "They could be infected you damn fools."

"They?" The third asked. "I only see the one."

"Probably a trick."

"We haven't seen no one come down that road in months, since last winter. Anyone that has made it this far ..."

" ... is likely infected."

They continued to squabble like that when I finally yelled, "I'm looking for the Durant or Svenson families! They've owned this place like forever! Are they here?"

That shut the men up. They looked at each other and then another man stepped out of from the side of the road. "What's your business with them fine folks?" he yelled from a safe distance.

"I ... I ... Look, my family vacationed up here every summer since my father was a boy. He only missed one summer and that was the year of the big fire when the camp was closed down for renovations." I was trying to think of some way to make myself sound legitimate with facts that only a local or someone connected should know.

The man took two steps closer and then put glasses on and looked at me hard. The other three men grew nervous. "Well bless my soul, if it isn't the Phillips girls!"

With the glasses on I recognized him beneath his cold weather gear. "Mr. Svenson!"

I jumped out of the truck, making the mistake of trying to run to him. "Whoa now Little Bit!"

When three rifles turned my direction and one went off making the gravel spray at my feet I did just that, skidding on a patch of ice and winding up on my butt. I scrambled backwards toward the truck, hurt in a way that I couldn't show both inside and out.

Mr. Svenson yelled, "Robert Paul you want me to take your head off boy?!"

Mr. Svenson could do it too. He might be in his 70s but he was a bear of a man with arms like that old cartoon character Popeye. I remembered the name Robert Paul. He was one of the cousins from Minnesota that would come help man the camp over the summer. "Robert Paul? Are you the one that split you pants that time the bear chased you up a tree?"

One of the other men snickered but I hadn't helped my case much. Mr. Svenson said repressively, "All right Little Bit you've proven who you are. No need to bring up embarrassing events just because he took a shot at you."

He expected an affirmative answer so I gave him a polite one. "Yes sir. I ... I just ... You've got family here."

I wanted my Dad and Mom so bad in that second that it was hard to control my tone of voice. Mr. Svenson heard it and answered carefully. "Yes I do. And where's your parents and brother?" All I could do shake my head but they all understood what I couldn't say aloud. "Recently?"

"No sir. First day of it all. I ... I've been wandering for a while. I finally grew up enough to know this was a place I wanted to see."

He sighed and I could feel things about to get worse. "Well Honey, here's the thing ... I'd love to take you in but we are full to bursting. We've taken so many in that there just isn't room. We had to make a rule that ..."

There was a buzzing in my ears. I'd come so far. Singing Waters had been my only goal.


	52. Chapter 52

Part Fifty-Two ****

"Uncle Joseph! You get away from her!"

"Aw shaddup RJ. You remember the Phillips family. They've been coming here longer than you've been on this earth."

"That don't mean she ain't one of them."

I felt my arm be given a good shake. "Well Little Bit? You one of them?"

I focused because I could hear from his tone my answer was important. "No sir. I'd off myself before I'd turn into a puss brain and hurt people by going cannibal. I've taken care of friends who couldn't do it for themselves. You have to if you are being responsible."

"Hear that boys?"

"Of course she'd say that. Tell her to prove it."

That woke me all the way up from my shock. I jumped up and back grabbing for my bat. "Oh no you don't! I'll ... I'll let Mrs. Svenson or Mrs. Durant check me out but any man that comes near me is gonna get his block knocked off and I don't care who it is!"

I don't know what they saw but they looked at each other cautiously. Mr. Svenson however said calmly, "Don't think there'll be any need for that." He took a step towards me and said, "And no need for that club either. No one here wants to hurt you."

"I've heard that before and while I'll believe you I'm not gonna just trust anyone else to hold to that kind of promise."

Slowly and sadly Mr. Svenson nodded. "And that might be a good thing. Some of these friends of my nephews' ain't what I'd call family oriented. They've worked hard the same as the family but not all of their ways are necessarily our ways all the time. Pretty little thing like you've grown into might just mess up the balance we've got established, like a woman on a boat full of men, and we don't need that kind of wind change here with winter setting in."

"Fine. I'll leave," I told him not having the faintest idea where I was going to go from there or even how since the fuel light had already come on.

"You gonna die Girl if you just run off."

"I'm not running," I told him. "I'm leaving calmly and of my own free will. I'm not quite as helpless as I used to be."

"So says you. Only thing I've seen is that you can drive ... and I'm surprised at that. Don't tell me you come all the way on your own."

I sighed. "No sir."

"But you're alone now."

I whispered so that only he could hear. "Yes sir."

He nodded, looked back at the other three men who had been joined by several others who had been drawn by the sound of the gun shot, and then turned back to me. "For a fact I wish I could take you in Child. For a fact. But I can't go against the entire camp. We had to agree on some rules to keep from tearing ourselves apart. But I can help ya some. You remember that forestry service cabin that is about five miles further down this road?"

I thought hard then nodded cautiously. "It's over by Trout Lake; the one you can't drive to but have to hike to."

He nodded in return. "Well it's still there and set up for winter quarters. It's just a one room cabin but it has a set of bunks, a table, and a few other pieces of things in there. Even has a good size storage locker. Would have liked to have had that locker myself but it was too big and heavy to haul back here; suspect it is even bolted to the floor joists. Windows are all good and the shutters are still on it though you might have to rig up some new pulley rope or chain if you've got any. And I'll see you get enough wood to carry you for a bit then you'll be having to do for your own. Got any food?"

Again cautiously I told him, "Some. And I know how to fish ... and hunt ... kinda." At his doubtful look I told him, "Someone taught me. Someone ...," I stopped before I could go into details and shook my head clear. My business was my business and I needed to practice shutting up. "I know how, I've done a little ... it's just a matter of practice."

"Well, you'll get that. Even with the big group we've got in camp there is plenty of game around. You know how to save your catch so it will last?"

"Smoking it like jerky."

"Well ... that's one way. When I can spare time away from camp I'll check on you and show you other ways. For now, you just go ahead and go on. We're about to get hit by a heavy storm or so my wife's lumbago is screaming and I've never known her lumbago to be wrong this time of year." When I just stood there looking at him he said, "Go on now, get. I'll try and talk that fool lot of mine around but with the way things are the best I'll be able to accomplish is to keep them from completely forgetting their Christian and to leave you alone. Go on up to that cabin. Bring you in as much wood as you can before it gets dark. And then you latch and bar that door. Bears haven't finished feeding their bellies yet and they're hungry."


	53. Chapter 53

Part Fifty-Three ****

I couldn't believe it. I'd come so far and been turned away at the gate. I could have gone all Biblical but something felt too wiggy about that ... it being blasphemous or something. Besides their family and their friends came first. I'd seen it all before, in the city and in my town. But in both of those places I'd fit someplace, been part of some group of belonging, been part of the "inside" or had inside knowledge. When I got here I found out I didn't just not belong but that I wasn't wanted ... wasn't wanted inside or outside the camp despite how Mr. Svenson had tried to treat me; he was the exception, not the rule.

Not even Moses or Jerry had been that harsh; they made you work for your place but they always let people try for a place in the group. One more body meant two more hands to fight the fight, one more person meant two more eyes to help cover everyone's backs. As messed up as all the people in our group were I'd never felt unwanted; wanted for the wrong reasons yes but never totally unwanted or unwelcome. What had just happened was like a slap in the face or a bucket of ice water; especially after all that I had gone through and had done to get there.

But it was reality. I'd sucked it all up before and I knew it was time I sucked it up again. I was also determined not to let my feelings get involved. That was the next step down the road I took to freezing out the hurt about anything. It was too late in the day for me to do anything else constructive; I didn't have any choice but to do like Mr. Svenson suggested. In my mind I realized that at least the USFS cabin would be a place to stop for the night, a roof over my head and four walls between me and the puss brains, as well as a place that would give me some room to think.

I would have missed the cabin completely if the forestry road hadn't ended less than a hundred yards from my destination. The path to the cabin sat back away from the road and was hidden by a lot of brush that had grown up in the formerly cleared space. Cautiously I left the truck and checked the place out; now was not the time for another surprise. The temperature was really dropping and my brain felt like it was coated with cold tar. Finally, after confirming there was no one else close by and that the cabin wasn't falling apart, I accepted that I could have wound up a lot worse off. The cabin was old and of whole logs rather than faced wood framing but the USFS had obviously done a lot to keep it maintained. Inside it had both a fireplace and franklin stove. However, neither would do me any good without wood to burn in them.

The lean to where the wood would have normally been stored was empty. The Singing Waters camp probably took it last year I hypothesized and it turned out I was correct but I didn't find that out until later. I took advantage of what Toddie had always called tree trash that was down all over the place and I started gathering it by the arm full. There were a couple of larger branches about as big around as my wrist and forearm that had also fallen to the ground and I put the ax, the small one that Jace had taught me to sharpen, to good use.

About an hour before dark I looked at the wood that I had stacked inside the cabin and knew it wouldn't be enough, but that it would have to do until I could come up with a plan B. I quickly started bringing in from the trailer what I would need for the next couple of days. It was then I admitted that one, there wasn't enough fuel to get me any place else and two, I was afraid someone was going to come along and steal what we'd worked so hard to gather. So, before I lit the fire, I did my best to accept my situation and empty the truck and most of the trailer and drag it up to the cabin. The only thing that remained when it got too dark for me to see was Sunny and Jace's clothes and grateful I was that that was all that was left.

I nearly tripped on a fallen limb on the way back to the cabin so I dragged it back with me and left it by the steps. Consequently, it destroyed the evidence of how many times I'd gone back and forth between the truck and trailer. I filed that bit of information in the back of my head and vowed to use that technique as often as needed.

I went inside the cabin, found the item I wanted, and fumbled with the lantern with cold fingers. After getting the wind up lantern going, I started a fire in the franklin. It was so cold that to move away from the stove was nearly torture for me. Then I heard something outside and quickly and quietly walked to the front of the cabin and made certain I had remembered to bar the door. It was there that I could hear voices carried to me on the wind.

"This ain't right John. Uncle Joseph is going to have my head. You heard him, we're to leave the girl alone."

"Your uncle don't have no say about nothing, it's your brother that runs this outfit and you know he isn't happy with what went down."

"You ain't reading this the way it is. Owen and the Phillips' girl's father were friends. We all knew him and his family from the time we were little. Him and his family were regulars every summer from before I was even born. And Owen is mad at why Uncle Joseph pitched more a fit about having her stay in the camp. You heard him ... 'Young girl like that, she'd get eaten alive by some that you've invited in like they're family.' And ... and I'm ... I'm kinda agreeing with the old man on this one. When we come out here the trailer ain't all you talked about checking out."

I heard a growl but the only animal it came out of was the guy named John. "We need some new flavor in camp. Your family keeps their girls too close and watches them too much. Some of us are getting tired of doing without and having to watch that we don't offend your brother's so-called hospitality too much."

"You know what Owen and the rest'll do to you or anyone that messes with the Svenson and Durant females. Has it been so long since they kicked Gary out that you've forgotten what happened to him?"

I heard a snort but some caution had entered the voice though he still threatened a bit. "One of these days there will be more of us than there are of you. Then we'll see who gets thrown out." I heard the trailer open. "Dammit, there's hardly anything in here."

"I told you that's what Uncle Joseph said. And Owen and Carter both said there is no way she could have driven all that way, not her. You don't know what she's like ... she's teacup sized in every way except her mouth. I swear her tongue was hinged in the middle and ran at both ends. Uncle Joseph loved it, looked forward to seeing her every summer, 'cause she never got tired of listening to his blasted tall tales and loved to ask him questions, followed him everywhere he went even the out house. She'd drive a saint to drink with the number of times she'd ask why about something ... and wouldn't stop until she got the answer she was looking for. There were only four people I know of that could ever shut her up ... that was her mom and dad, and Uncle Joseph and Aunt Ava and even her mom and Aunt Ava threw a wet dish rag at her every once in a while."

"You're exaggerating. You always do. You just don't want me to get interested and maybe get something over on you since you seem to think you got first pick."

"You're an idiot John and I don't know why I still hang out with you. I might be exaggerating about how much she talked ... but not by much unless something's occurred to change her ... but I ain't ever gonna be so hard up I have to go sniffing around some poor kid. Damn, you turning into a pedophile or something?"

"She ain't no kid. She might be small but she fills out the front of her coat real good."

"Damn man, you're sick."

John snickered but then they both fell quiet as I heard them move around. "Ain't nothing much in this truck either and it's got two broke out windows. Shine that light here ... yep, and there's blood in here too. Wonder when that happened."

"Uncle Joseph will find out. For now we better get back to the camp. If Owen finds out what we've been up to ... I don't need him making my life any harder than it already is. After what Lucy let slip what she saw he might not care that we're brothers and might boot me out too. I don't want no trouble like that, not right here at winter."

"We need to syphon this gas tank."

"Can't. Nothing to put it in. Besides the snow is starting to come down."

"Then we'll come back after the storm and do it. And ..."

Their voices faded but I was already making a list of things to do. First off was to drive the truck as far into the trees as I could get it and then cover it with a tarp or branches or something. I decided to turn it into what Jace had called a fallback position. Next I'd syphon that fuel myself and conceal it out in the woods. After a while it wouldn't be any good for operating a machine but it would still light a fire if I needed to. Or it would make homemade napalm if I could find enough Styrofoam to dissolve into it. There were two full sleeves of Styrofoam plates in the supplies that could work for that if I needed them to.

I also knew that I'd have to watch my back. Best way to do that since I was on my own was to stay away from Singing Waters and everyone associated with it. As a plan it wasn't much but it was a start. It was also the first layer of the wall that I've built up around myself. That wall is as thick as the one that surrounded Jericho these days. I'm not sure I even know how to pull it down anymore.


	54. Chapter 54

Part Fifty-Four ****

That storm lasted three days and put a not inconsiderable amount of snow on the ground. But lucky for me that is exactly what I needed. It let me move the truck ... nearly killed myself driving between two trees ... and I also drained the fuel tank of what little bit of gas that was left and hid it temporarily under the cabin in a concrete lined hole that had some kind of metal sticker on it about electricity. Could have been meant for a generator maybe; Mr. Svenson never mentioned it and I never asked.

The storm also gave me room to think ... shelter, food, and water were my priorities but first came thinking. I needed space and the storm kept people away and gave me a chance to plan. Second I needed time to get organized so I could, as Jace used to call it, implement my plans and I started that by putting all my stuff away. Found the keys to the large storage locker thrown in one of the desk drawers. The cabinet itself looked like a giant gun cabinet to me, the kind Dad had always wanted but never had the money or space for. It was so big I could step inside it and not have to bend over or feel scrunched for space. I proceeded to put all my food in there.

I organized the food the way Mom used to organize our kitchen cabinets; oldest stuff in front to be used first and then grouped together by category and container size. There weren't but a couple of shelves in the cabinet so it meant continuing to use the boxes and small plastic organizers that had been in the truck and trailer but that was OK. In the scheme of things there wasn't a lot of food but looking at it still made me feel rich for a few minutes.

My clothes I folded and put into one of the two footlockers that went with the two bunks. Not that I was changing my clothes a whole lot, it was too blasted cold. As gross as it seems to the girl I used to be, getting clean from the skin out on a daily basis - at least during cold weather - is a thing of the past. Same for getting my hair washed; good thing I've always been partial to braids. And about the only laundry that I do with any regularity are my socks and underwear. I've got a small, foldable drying rack that I set up by the fireplace or the franklin depending on which I've got lit and it is there that I hang anything that has gotten damp. I've also got a boot tree where I upend my boots so they can dry inside.

It's more work to keep my shoes from getting wet than when I was growing up in town. I'm often walking in snow that comes higher than my boot tops. That means keeping the boots oiled and waterproofed the best I can as often as needed. What I'll do when all that stuff is gone I don't know but then again there is a lot of stuff that is going to be gone before I can get more of it so I'd best set my mind to just getting used to it. Unless I can find the kind of stuff the pioneers used to use. And that's where the books come in.

The books that I brought and that I've since collected I keep in the floor to ceiling cubby holes next to the bunks. There aren't a ton of books so there is room for me to keep my personal items like comb, hairbrush, and that sort of thing in one of the cubbies as well. I put my snow globes there too. It isn't much of a collection, and sometimes watching the snow is monotonous since I can watch it outside if I want to, but it's something that exists outside the same old/same old that is my life most of the time. Makes me understand why pioneer women made such a production out of any little thing they had that was "store bought" or that came with them in their wagons and schooners to the new land. Those items were a reminder that something exists or exited for them outside of the simple and hard acts of survival. They were a reminder of what they were aiming for in their new life ... better.

Every so often I forget that myself. If someone was to ask me on most days why I do what I do about the only answer I could come up with would be "survival." On other days, better days, I could say because I'm not a quitter or I know that one day things will get better ... not what they were before but better than they are now. I've seen a lot of people get to the point where they ask themselves what's the use and then they give up ... and it is at that point that most of them die or might as well be dead. I came close to that a few times myself, especially a couple of weeks ago but I'm not ready to write about that part yet. Right now I'm just trying to pick myself up and remember how to feel something besides pain. Back then I was trying to pick myself up too, just was much less interested in the feeling part.

On the first snow free day after that first storm I was barely able to warm snow to have water with on the twigs I had left. I'd gone through all of the wood I was able to bring in the first night and even the large branch that I had drug to the porch steps. As cold as I was I knew I was only going to get colder if I didn't get out and get some more wood; and they needed to be bigger than the wrist sized pieces.

The storm had brought down quite a bit more tree trash so I started with that but then, after figuring out how to padlock the cabin with the lock off of the trailer, I went a little deeper into the trees and found one that was dead and lying lengthways on the ground. I would chop a limb off then drag it to the cabin and leave it by the porch. I was on my fourth haul when I came within sight of the cabin and heard chopping.


	55. Chapter 55

Part Fifty-Five ****

I nearly gave Mr. Swenson and the two men with him a heart attack when I came out of the trees with my bat and shouted, "Hey! That's mine!"

A man with a very bushy beard growled at me and said, "That's a good way to get shot you little fool."

"A good way to get shot is to take stuff that doesn't belong to you." And before they could give me a snappy comeback I told them, "At least when you don't have someone watching your back while you do it."

Mr. Svenson leaned on the porch railing and started chuckling, then he was laughing, then he was just about to bust a gut. I didn't see what was so funny. Neither did bushy beard but the other guy was wiping his mouth with a faded blue bandana which gave me the idea he was trying really hard not to smile.

Mr. Svenson finally stopped and moaned as he sat down on one of the stairs. "Oh Girly, you've grown into a firecracker. Reminds me of my Ava. She would have just been about your age when I took notice of her the first time I came in off the boat." He wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

When the trumpeting was over with I asked, "How is Mrs. Svenson? You said her lumbago was starting to act up."

He nodded, "Laid up with it as we speak though Carter's bride has got some god-awful goop brewing to help her get the kinks out. She sends her love and says when it's time she'll try and arrange to see you."

I tried to keep my face blank but bushy beard man's scowl was menacing. To him I said, "I can't tell who is under all that fur. Are you Mr. Owen or Mr. Carter."

"Owen you infernal brat. Now come here and get a proper hug."

"Yeah right. Not with you looking like you want to paddle me first."

The other man snickered again but tried to look away. Knowing it could only be his twin I said to the other one, "Hello Mr. Carter."

"Hello DeeDee," he said still snickering a little bit. Owen was built like a bear ... like Mr. Svenson and that side of his family. Mr. Carter, though only half a minute younger than his twin, was his complete opposite all the way down to his personality. Mr. Carter liked a good laugh, sometimes too much so just like Mr. Owen could be too gruff and serious.

I stood there waiting to find out what they wanted and Mr. Svenson took a long look at me and then sighed. "Where's my little noisy bumble bee?"

Trying not to hurt the old man's feelings I said, "Oh, she's around. She just tries to have more sense than she used to. But it's taken quite a bit to get her this way." Mr. Svenson nodded. Mr. Owen suddenly got an interested look on his face, one that said he hadn't expected to. And Mr. Carter mentioned that he might as well go back to chopping wood if I was going to get boring.

"And why are you chopping MY wood?"

Mr. Carter smiled and shook his head before saying, "Because I drew short straw of the day and am stuck with the scut work. And today's scut work is getting you some wood so Uncle Joseph here will stop pestering me about it." I never had decided whether I had liked Mr. Carter or not. Part of me wanted to but Dad told me to mind my p's and q's around him because he was kinda wild and was always leading the kids in the Durant family into trouble of one sort or another and he liked most of the family too much to want to get into a ruckus with them over an incident if it could be avoided by using some ordinary caution.

I looked at Mr. Svenson and he reminded me, "I told you I'd see you'd get some wood Child."

"Yes sir. I just didn't figure you'd take a whip and chair to the grown ups to get it done. Besides, I'm already chopping wood."

"So I see. Glad to see you've turned into a go-getter like your mother. Now, have you eaten today?"

That brought a glower from Mr. Owen and I decided I wasn't going to get drawn into their family politics so I told him, "Yes sir." He hiked a bushy eyebrow up to edge of his toboggan cap so I explained, "Broth with dried chives in it and pickled eggs. Not great but better than starving and more than a lot of people I know are probably eating. And speaking of, I'm not a charity case, what do I owe you for help with the wood?"

"Humph!" I'd whoopsed and offended someone I had no business offending.

Mr. Owen looked at his uncle's sour face and then turned to me and said seriously, "Nothing this time DeeDee Phillips. I won't even take exception to you throwing our Christian duty back in our face."

"If it's Christian duty then I'll accept with thanks Mr. Owen," I told him remembering how religious some of the family was. "But I've found that even that duty some people like to put strings on to. I'm not saying you or your family but people aren't all who they used to be and ... and I've learned to not ... not take so much for granted in the last little while."

Mr. Owen gave me a searching look and then nodded. "As an apology that was a fine one." He sighed. "And you're right to be cautious girl. Even here there are some, even some in our own group, that prefer to go their own way."

I thought about that, nearly said something about what I'd heard that first night though I still couldn't say who the other Durant brother was that had been with the man since there were several. In case it was Carter - and I couldn't tell at all - I decided to keep that to myself, at least for a bit. What I did ask was, "You make it sound like Singing Waters people aren't the only ones around."

Mr. Owen looked at his uncle uncomfortably then said, "I'll leave you to it Uncle Joseph. I want to see what Carter is up to."

My uh-oh meter spiked. Mr. Svenson patted the stair beside him and I sat down cautiously waiting for the hammer to fall.


	56. Chapter 56

**Part Fifty-Six**

Mr. Svenson said, "They want your story before they'll go any further than this bit of wood."

Carefully I told him, "I'm not looking for charity Mr. Svenson. I honestly didn't think that there would be anyone here and so I'm not expecting help. Like I told Mr. Owen, that comes with all sorts of strings ... expectations and that sort of thing. I had to work long and hard not to turn into some kind of protected girl that had to ... er ..."

Mr. Svenson sighed and stroked his beard. "I can imagine what that 'er' means. Have a young woman in camp that ... has had a problem with 'er' herself. About Jolene's age."

Jolene was Mr. Owen's step daughter and was about Toddie's age, or how old he would have been. I nodded. Trying not to sound ridiculous but mature at the same time I told him, "A lot of that going on in the world right now."

"Humph," he answered. "A lot of that going on in the world before, just wasn't out in the open like it is nowadays. Some of the things I've seen in the ports of call I made over my life ..." He trailed off shaking his head. "But you're getting me off track Little Bit. Seems like we're going to have to make an exchange here. You tell me your story and I'll tell you how things stand around here."

I nodded. "Well I suppose the only way to tell it is if I start at the beginning." And I did with that first day and carried on up until finding Singing Waters occupied. It was all the truth that I told him, just not all of the truth."

Mr. Svenson gave me a shrewd look and said, "I'm thinking you've left quite a bit out."

I shrugged and told him, "Nothing that will bring any harm to anyone. Just ... there are things that ... that ... don't need to be brought up. They happened. I lived. You got my story from me. I just don't want to wring out every drop of blood all over again."

He nodded and allowed, "Probably the way it is going to have to be. It'd be better if you could talk to someone to help but if you've already got a scab growing over it, no sense in picking at it all over again and making a mess."

After a quiet moment while the old man thought I asked, "Was it bad here?"

He shook his head. "Not at first. Not too many people live this far north year round. When supplies got scarce a lot of the folks that did let the government talk them into heading to them refugee camps. Reckon a lot of people are sorry about that. On the other hand, all they would have done up here was starve. People just didn't put back like they used to. If Ava and I hadn't come up to camp and brought the summer's supplies with us the family would have been in tough shape. Owen's bunch was smart and brought everything they could but not all the boys and their families were so thoughtful. And some of 'em, like my namesake Joe, brought friends that have been as much a hindrance as they have been a help. It was a few months into it that we started getting people up this way. Unfortunately a lot of the people that came out this way didn't have a clue how to survive off the land, hunt, or anything else for that matter including take care of the waste they created. It was inevitable the Disease would crop up. It took the first winter to finally whittle the infecteds down to where we weren't barricaded in camp most of the time. Lost a lot over the winter months as well ... cold, starvation, cabin fever. Some ain't equipped mentally to live thisaway for any length of time. Vacation is a whole 'nother kettle of fish from living like this full time. Since the spring groups have melded together and what is here is likely to stay here except for the odd small group of 'em that want to go 'salvaging' like Mad Max or go to see what the government is giving away for free."

I could have told him the government wasn't giving away anything for free but I was still stuck on something he had mentioned. "Joe? He's the youngest of the brothers isn't he? The one you always called Hard Head?"

"Sure is. Boy turned 30 a few months back and still ain't no closer to being a man than he was when he turned 20. You'd think with all that is going on he'd ... well ..." He stopped and shook his head.

Carefully I asked, "Joe ... wouldn't happen to have a friend named ... John would he?" I was quiet and looking at my feet.

Mr. Svenson acted like he was stretching out muscles and bones that were too old to be sitting on cold front stoops and said, "Need to work out this rhumatizz. Come walk with your ol' story teller."

He called over to Mr. Owen that he was going to show me the nearby creek that I could get water from if I broke the ice on it and we took off slowly through the trees. After we had gone several yards he asked in a very different voice that had an edge of hardness to it, "How you come to know such a thing about Joe and John."

"The ... the wind carried some voices up to the cabin the first night I was here. I heard the name John ... and some things he said ... but not the name of the other though I know he's one of the brothers because he called Owen and Carter that."

"And what did this wind carry to you that makes you so fidgety?"

Deciding it was time I told him, "John mentioned a thing that I think you should know for sure and maybe Owen if you think so ... only I'm not too sure I want it known where it comes from in case ... well, just in case they want to shoot the messenger."

"And that is?"

"This John didn't seem too happy with his position in the camp, didn't like how ... how the girls were kept away from him and some of the other men ... and ... and how maybe one day there would be more of them than there was the family and that they wouldn't be the ones being kicked out ... like some guy named Gary had been."

Mr. Svenson stopped and like some older men do seemed to be trying to get ahold of his temper since it would be impolite to say the kind of things they'd like to say before someone they considered little more than a girl child. His mouth worked and I could see his hands working into fists inside his mittens. Finally he said, "Well now, that's something all right."

I heard a twig snap and spun with my bat raised. A man stepped from behind a bush and said, "You're fast but you'd never make it if I'd been out to shoot you."


	57. Chapter 57

**Part Fifty-Seven**

Still hefting my bat I told him, "People die every day. One day I'll die. But since you aren't pointing that rifle you are carrying yet I might as well fight before I die."

Mr. Svenson snapped, "That's enough. Jamie, what the hell do you think you're doing out here slinking around like a weasel?"

"Dad told me to keep an eye on you," he said mildly, answering the older man that was fast beginning to look like an irritated badger.

Suddenly I recognized the young man "slinking around" and I winced. He wasn't my favorite person in the world but then again if he'd been under orders from Mr. Owen he didn't deserve the "dressing down" that Mr. Svenson was gonna deliver. "Run. Run now Jamie. He's gonna blow."

Jamie was Mr. Owen's only child by his first wife. She ran off when she couldn't hack the lifestyle he was devoted to, leaving Jamie behind. He was a cross between Mr. Owen's brains and Mr. Carter's personality. Being he one of the older kids I'd never had much to do with him because he had a habit of making me feel and look stupid when I got too nosey about wanting to join that crowd.

My words only caused Mr. Svenson to growl deep in his throat and cross his arms in front of his swelling chest. "Yeah boy ... run ... 'cause I'm about to blow."

I saw a smile split the beard and he said, "I'll take my chances with you, thanks anyway. You I might stand a chance with. Dad I know will take my head off if I don't make sure you are ok. He loves you too much and doesn't know whether to trust her yet or not even if she was one of your summer favorites." He punctuated "her" with a toss of his head in my general direction.

I leaned against a tree to show how little I cared about what his words meant and told him, "Your father doesn't need to care either way. Looks like it'll be better if we all just leave each other alone. That's the way it was in the city sometimes. No matter what or why, sometimes two groups just couldn't help but rub each other the wrong way."

The young man tried to rub salt in a wound that didn't exist and said, "You're just as puny as you ever were and will starve if people don't look after you."

Jamie and Toddie had always gotten along though I do say that Toddie was the wilder of the two. It was a friendship both families had encouraged - they even skyped and emailed during the off seasons and when they went to college - as both of them were the type that were too smart for their own good on many occasions but together they got so busy doing interesting things that they stayed out of trouble. Mostly anyway.

"Small I still am and will always be but puny I am not." Then I performed a trick that I had perfected in the city but hadn't done in a while. I hadn't been as lazy as I'd made out as I'd been leaning against the tree to hide my hand going into my pocket. I tossed a stone really fast and hit it with the bat so that it shot right at where Jamie had been standing. He ducked and the stone took off a deep chunk of bark from the tree he'd been in front of.

He looked at the tree trunk then at me, then at the tree trunk again and said in a suddenly respectful tone, "OK, that was unexpected."

"Good."

He grinned again and said, "Maybe you can show Belinda how to do that."

When I looked at Mr. Svenson his mouth gave a twist and said, "That girlfriend of his that he brought from school. Came here a vegatarianist or some such. Biggest bunch a silliness I've ever seen. Won't even eat fish or help to cook or clean the meat that others bring in. Won't wear fur or leather. Makes a lot of work for the rest of the women and then she wants to have a bowl of something made completely separate from anything that has touched meat. If she didn't do most of it for herself, and learned to shut her mouth about it, she'd been out of here before last winter."

Jamie sighed and said, "I'm working on it Uncle Joseph. She's coming around. It's just part of her religion."

"Yeah, and that's another thing. How you ever got hooked up with a ... a what's its name ... and expected the family to look the other way ..."

Jamie shrugged and I could see it was an old argument ... and one I had absolutely no intention of getting involved in.

"Where you going Little Bit?" Mr. Svenson asked when I started walking away.

"To see if Mr. Owen is tired of 'watching' Mr. Carter and is ready for you all to go or if he has more questions he wants you to ask me."


	58. Chapter 58

**Part Fifty-Eight**

The two men in question had been coming up the trail - apparently the rock hitting the hard oak had sounded close to a gunshot from their position - as I turned and Mr. Carter was chuckling. "Well Brother, she's got you there."

I sighed, uncomfortable with someone thinking that I was trying to get something over on an adult. Mr. Owen must have read my face and said, "Knock it off Carter. Girl has a brain in her head I'm thankful to see. And yes, I've got a few more questions." The last sentence was directed at me.

We all walked back toward the cabin and I was surprised to see a lot more wood than I had expected. "Benny brought the mules up here with the cuttings from that tree that fell across the road. You remember Benny?"

That was just politeness I suppose. Benny was "special" and the family had always looked out for him. He was the son of one of the regular camp workers. He was about my age but had been born really sick with something and forever afterwards was what you would call learning disabled though that was just something else that was polite to say. He rarely talked and when he did it didn't always make sense unless you were used to the way he associated things. People barely existed for him, only some animals, but he'd developed a passion for the camp mules when we were very little and was most happy when he was taking care of them. The mules in turn took care of Benny. I was ten the summer a rabid bear showed up in camp. Those mules, as terrified as they were, kept circling Benny and in general making a horrible mess as they kicked out at the bear until someone shot it dead.

Back to the then present I responded to Mr. Owen, "Yes sir. What were your questions?" He gave me a stern look. "I don't mean to be rude Mr. Owen but ... I'm not the girl I was. I'd rather you just tell me what you want to know, give me a chance to tell you, and then find out if you are going to run me off or not. If you are I need to make plans and figure things out. If you aren't I still have plans to work out and I need to start practicing how to fish."

All the men, Jamie included, gave me various searching looks like they weren't sure what to make of me or how to take me. In the end Mr. Svenson reached over and patted my shoulder and then went to sit on a tree stump left over from the cutting of a tree from who knows how many seasons ago. He looked tired and a lot older than I remember. My eyes followed him and when he was out of earshot - his hearing not being what it used to be which was why Jamie was able to sneak up on him - I asked, "Is he OK?"

"Age and cantankerousness. And Aunt Ava being under the weather doesn't help. She sent him out here to see you hoping you'd perk him up."

I sighed. "I don't have much perk left but what I've got he can have."

"About that, I have to admit that I find it strange that a young girl has made it this far on her own."

I gave an even more abbreviated version of my story, leaving it up to Mr. Svenson to fill the rest in, and then said, "However I got here, I'm here. I made a mistake assuming that I could just get here and everything would be there for me to settle into. I guess I wanted it to be so much that I didn't plan for it not being. But that's changing. I just need to know if you're gonna run me off."

Mr. Owen shook his head. "Where would you go? Probably into a cauldron of trouble. We don't have any room at the camp but I won't let anyone run you off from here as long as you don't bring trouble down on us."

I made a face so he'd see how much I meant it when I said, "Last thing I want is trouble. I've had enough and don't want no more."

"Good," he said nodding. "But not wanting any and avoiding it isn't necessarily the same thing."

"Mr. Svenson kinda talked like there were other people around. Are they puss brains?"

"By puss brains you mean the infected folks?" At my nod he said, "No, though there are some wandering about even now so watch your step. We do what we can to spot them when they come up this way and send them on to the Maker. You should have some relief from that worry in a couple of weeks. Last winter we saw that by the middle of December the constant cold pretty much sends them into a ... well ... it looks a little like hibernation though a lot of them die during it for lack of whatever it is they need to keep 'em going." He sighed again. "No, the kind of trouble I'm speaking of is the kind caused by some of the other groups in the area."

"So there are other people around here."

He nodded. "About six groups left. They leave us alone for the most part but every so often they come around wanting something or other either by trade or by theft. Dad put you at the furthest point away from the other groups but they could still come around the other side of the lake and run up on you. You definitely don't want what kind of trouble that could turn into. Now stay put while Carter and I go make sure that the creek is fit and not been contaminated."


	59. Chapter 59

**Part Fifty-Nine**

"They're bad?" I asked after the two older men had left and Jamie had faded into the trees promising to bring me a rabbit or something similar for dinner.

From the man sitting on the tree stump came the words, "As I spoke on before ... some of 'em are, some of 'em are just desperate to survive the same as us, most think we've got more than our fair share of women in our group and think we ought to let them come visit. And I'm sure there are other jealousies of some type or other."

I could see how uncomfortable he was and frankly I was uncomfortable talking about it to him as well. This wasn't Lee or the Sheriff or Sherry or anyone else; this was Mr. Svenson and he was the closest thing to a kindly grandfather figure I'd ever had in my life. It was more than that thought. Mr. Svenson was from a generation and a time where there were some things you just didn't discuss with the opposite sex. He was a little more wordly having spent many years working in a fishing fleet but there was still a reserve to him that I didn't want to offend.

"Mr. Svenson ... how likely are these other people to ... to see me as ... well ... easy pickings."

He shook his head. "It makes my heart hurt to even have to discuss this with you Child but you need to know the truth so you can gird yourself against it. I would say most of the men and boys that find out about you will just come sniffing around wanting to try and catch your attention but they won't be violent about it. Those you'll need to be careful not to lead on lest they start fighting amongst themselves. The other half ... well ... a goodly portion of them will do more than sniff and might try and intimidate you into picking them but even that a smart young woman can handle with planning and a little defensive force. But there are some that you won't be able to make take no for an answer and for those you'll need to be prepared ..."

He stopped and I finished for him. "It's ok Mr. Svenson. I know what I need to be prepared to do. It's not like I haven't had to deal with it before but so far my guardian angel has always been up to the task." The last I said to make him feel better not because I necessarily totally believed it. Oh I believed in guardian angels. I also believe sometimes they step back and let you learn a lesson the hard way.

He was silent a moment and then decided that the subject was best put away. Then he turned and asked, "Now were you telling a story about learning how to hunt?"

"No sir. The young man I told you of ... the ... the one that ..."

"Uh hmm?"

With one sound he gave me a way to go on and I was grateful. "Anyway, he taught me. I just need to practice it more. I'm only hit or miss when it comes to the best place to put the traps and snares. I've got a book I mean to read with some pointers but I also need to get out and look around to see the ... the ... er ... the lay of the land."

He nodded. "Yes you do. But just to be safe, take this right quick before any of the boys see."

He pushed a bag into my hand and then towards my coat. I tucked it in the inside pocket quickly and told him, "Mr. Svenson, you're gonna get in trouble ..." I said it in the same way I used to tell him when he was giving me candy before meals knowing Mom would have flipped a switch. Usually they were just lemon drops or fire balls and the memory made me want that taste pretty bad.

Smiling at his own memories Mr. Svenson said, "Humph. I do my own bit of hunting and smoking to add to Ava's pantry so I can do as I please with it. We had an abundance of trout this year with the visitors around here being so few and far between. Also put in a bit of maple candy from Ava. She remembered how partial you were to it."

I tried very hard not to tear up. I didn't want to feel anything and he was making me feel. Mr. Svenson patted my shoulder as if he understood and asked his next question. "What about skinning? You know what to do with them?"

"Wellllll ... I know how to do the skinning part but ... but he never said anything about saving the fur for anything. I saw in a book it can be done. And I remember you used to have these frames tacked to the outside of the mule shed with rabbit and squirrel furs on them. But ... er ... it said in the book I ... uh ... needed brains to tan them with. I'm not too sure of the process."

Mr. Svenson tried not to smile at my slightly green tinge and told me, "Well ... if you've a mind to learn I've a mind to teach ya. The girls usually leave that sort of thing to the men ... or the boys we're bringing along ... but with you being on your own ... as they say 'waste not want not.'"

And with that the three other men brought several armfuls of smallwood and deposited it in the lean to, declaring the creek fit to draw from, and Jamie handing me a large hare that he said had practically run into them when they picked up a pile of brush and he'd only had to grab him by the ears. Mr. Owen said, "Dad, we best be getting back. Might be some that miss us."

I bit my lip to keep from blurting out what I'd told Mr. Svenson earlier. He must have sensed it and patted my shoulder. "Well, I suppose it is as good a time as any. And we need to speak on something on the way." He turned to me and with a stern look said, "You be sensible with your wandering. We need to work us some signals that tells me when and the direction you took in case I come and you're not about."

I nodded and an unwilling warm spark meandered through my chest. It had been a while since someone cared enough to want to know where I was so they wouldn't worry. The three older men started to walk but Jamie held back a moment and then asked me, "Do you have a gun?"

I looked at him ferociously and said, "None of your business."

"Kinda is. I'll come with Uncle Joseph when I can though the work rosters most likely won't always allow it. But if you have one you need to keep it with you. Uncle ... look ... he just ain't as young as he thinks he is." At my concerned look he added, "Today is a good day. But who knows about tomorrow. He had what Aunt Paulette thinks was a small stroke last spring. He's come back a lot better than anyone expected at the time but ... no one wants to see him go down again. Got it?"

Irritated told him, "Got it. I'm supposed to protect him but let him think he is protecting me. Is that it?"

Jamie looked perturbed at my sudden anger and said, "Close enough." He glanced around and then hunched his shoulders. "This sucks mightily. You're Todd's little sister. You shouldn't be out here like this."

Cutting him some slack so he would just go away and let me think I told him, "Well he's not here. In case you're wondering ..."

"No," he said quickly. "I heard what you told Uncle Joseph."

I nodded. "Well, I've been in tighter spots than this and a lot worse off. This is the first real place I've had to live in since Z-Day. At least here I can build something and can stop running for a while."

"For a while? You don't mean to stay?"

I shrugged, "Who the heck knows what is coming tomorrow? For now I want to stay but what I want and what gets handed to me ... they just might not be the same thing."


	60. Chapter 60

**Part Sixty**

After that the days fell into a routine of sorts, most of which was taken up with three things ... finding and chopping firewood, bringing in water and processing it so that I could use it without getting sick, and hunting so that I wouldn't starve. Mr. Svenson was a powerhouse of knowledge. If Jace ... well never mind that, suffice it to say that Jace would have done quite a bit of learning from Mr. Svenson as he hadn't known near as much as he thought he had. I said something to that affect and Mr. Svenson smiled and said not to hold it against his memory as he'd done a fairly good job with the time we'd had together and that Jace had been young enough that he hadn't figured out yet that there is always some new to learn in life. "Little Bit, when you stop learning, you start dying. As much as a couple of them fellas from the other groups grate on my nerves, one or two of 'em have had some good ideas and I was happy to get my brain onto something new and worthwhile. One of 'em got a small water wheel up and running and we were able to share in the grinding of acorns for meal."

I hiked all over many acres to keep from hunting any one place over. That is when I could find something to hunt in the first place. It didn't take but a week before I was holding my nose and eating those pickled turkey gizzards to keep from puking from being so hungry. The cold was like an enemy I was constantly doing battle with. It took a lot of energy to stay warm just sitting still and you could add to that all the calories I used hauling wood and water. Once I did finally get handy at running my own trap line and started bringing in animals to eat things got better. The walls of the cabin soon became covered with frames of stretched hides and furs.

The furs, mostly rabbit though there was one memorable event with the bear and the fruitcake that had me struggling to drag it back so that I could ask Mr. Svenson what to do with it, were tanned and stretched according to the old time ways Mr. Svenson had always used. I did all the work as the arthritis in his hands was painful. I suspect the stroke had also left him with some weakness which I confirmed during one conversation with Jamie, who as promised often came with Mr. Svenson.

I did have the occasional run in with the other guys from Singing Waters but I avoided it when I could and when I couldn't, avoided getting tangled up in the situations they tried to engineer. That John fellow was the only exception. He seemed to enjoy pestering me until the day he went too far and I took the bat to his privates one good smack and then kicked him in the butt as he was bent over gasping, sending him head first into the creek. I said nothing to anyone else and neither did he so far as I know, but he didn't mess with me again either.

One day about a month after I had taken up residence in the cabin I was wandering the forestry roads looking for deer tracks when I ran upon a thing called a fifth wheel which is a big camper trailer that is towed around by a large truck; the longer the fifth wheel the bigger the truck needed to pull it. It was off deep into the trees and from its condition I knew it had been there a while; the wheels of both the trailer and truck were buried deep ... deeper than the top of the snow and up to their fenders in the ground, with mud caked deep on the sides of both.

I stayed in the trees until I could tell for sure that the ground around the campsite was not disturbed. In fact there was a tree across the hood of the truck and plenty of tree trash on and around everything else as well. There was a broken plastic lawnchair sitting in front of what I could see, after scuffing around in the snow, was a fire ring of sorts though it was an awful small one.

Still unwilling to just open the trailer I scouted around and listened closely for any telltale noise as if I was back in the city listening for puss brains inside an apartment before entering to salvage it. Nothing. It was when I walking around what was supposed to be the back end that I saw what was left hanging from a tree. I wouldn't have known what it was if I hadn't seen similar things in the city and had them explained to me.

It was a hanging. From the overturned plastic lawn chair directly beneath the mess I gathered it had been a willing one. There wasn't much left in the noose but it gave me enough to think about and play the game of looking for clues. No jacket and what was left was pretty decayed so perhaps back in the summer. The hair was matted and longer than I'd think a guy would wear it but it wasn't beyond impossible that it was a guy.

I was no Sherlock Holmes so that was about all I could come up with. I turned to the trailer and cautiously when to the door on the side. It was locked but I'd seen people do stranger things. Carefully I put my screwdriver into the frame and pried out the door. I stayed low to avoid a booby trap; I'd seen a couple of those in the city too.

I let the door come open and then caught it and secured it against the side of the trailer with a bit of string I took from my pocket. You did not want a door slamming shut or open at a bad moment. Trust me on that one. I could tell a story on a guy that had been in our group in the city but it isn't particularly a short one and the ending is sad. Suffice it to say, you just don't want it happening to you.

The inside of the trailer was dark as a cave - all the blinds were drawn - and there was a musty smell that poured out. I let the interior air out and then slowly made my way inside.


	61. Chapter 61

**Part Sixty-One** ****

The pull-down aluminum stairs were rusted in the upright position so I had to hike my leg up to climb inside. I stayed squatted low, prepared to jump back out; a job Moses had given me because he said I was small, young, and limber. What he didn't say but meant was that I was also expendable, like a canary in a coal mine. I was useful but replaceable.

My eyes adjusted to the gloom and I saw that the coast was clear, at least so far. Lots of dust stirring as I moved about but that was the only thing that appeared to have life. The center of the trailer was a kitchen/dinette set up; small compared to a house but still serviceable. Under the grime I could tell the cabinets and countertops were the kind that Mom always dreamed of. They looked pretty schnazzy which told me that it was one of the more expensive vacation models. It wasn't all that clean, but I wasn't sure until I looked into the bedroom - which you got to by stepping to the right - that it was the habits of the inhabitants rather than abandonment that got it that way. Turning to the left I was met with a solid wall of stuff in garbage bags and boxes. I just stood staring at it then turned away to look around the rest of the trailer a little more.

In the bedroom was where I spotted it. It looked out of place amongst the cigarette butts and empty liquor bottles. I picked it up, the binding cracked with age and poor handling, and a piece of paper fell out.

 _Told Clarence it was bad luck to steal this thing from them old white people. They was so scart. But God fourgive me, I had to get my babies away from them kaniballs. Now my babies are dead an buryd out under them dark scary trees in this hell I followed the wrong man into. Clarence gave them something so they wud stop crying and carrying on cause there wusn't no tv to watch. They went to sleep oney they never waked up. I killd Clarence for what he dun now I do not no what to do. I cant figger out how to get the trailer off and I cant get the truck out of the mud. I am stuck forever. I wisht I was dead. God come take me like you dun took my babies._

I suppose for a suicide note it wasn't any worse than Jace's. I don't even know if it was a real suicide note when it was written or just someone trying to bleed off bad feelings. Whatever the note was meant to be, or however long it was written before she did what she did, I felt bad for the woman. Her suffering must have been real for her to end it the way she did. And though I knew she was long gone to meet her Creator I still cut down what was left in the rope and then knocked that and what was on the ground together into a single pile. Didn't do much good, an animal came along and dragged bits and pieces away and made a general mess of what I'd tried to make neat, but at least I tried.

I looked at the sky measuring the amount of daylight I had left and decided it was worth digging through the stuff piled in the back but it took me a while to think with something less than disgust and irritation at wasted time.

Cigarettes - useless to me  
Liquor - possibly interesting though there were a lot more empties than there were filled  
Prescription pills - for a brief moment I wished for Doc and then shuddered at the thought  
Wads of cash - good for toilet paper but little else and even then new bills were scratchy and could hurt unless you took the time to crinkle them up enough to make them soft and pliable.  
Then I found some kids clothes, kind of nasty and not just because they'd been packed away for months either, and then some other adult clothes all bagged in the kind of cheap black trash bags that tore if you looked at them the wrong way. The odor wafting out of the bags was one of bad hygiene and mildew.

I was ready to give up and head to the kitchen when things turned interesting. My hand touched touched a door knob and by the time I dug the door out that it belonged to I had discovered a small storage room. The stuff in that closet sized room was much neater. First off there was real luggage, the expensive kind. I struggled to pull it out and over the other mess but when I finally opened it I found good men's clothes like the kind you would buy online from specialty clothing stores. Some of the brand names were Patagonia, Denali, and North Face. Same for the suitcases of women's clothing I found. There was also normal stuff like t-shirts, socks, and everyday clothes like my parents would have worn. There was a shoe rack of sensible shoes for both sexes as well. Whoever had packed that part of the trailer was practical but able to afford better than wallyworld or tar-jay.

Further in I found other household goods, camping gear, but the thing that really made me smile was two large crates of books ... mostly classics but there were some of the cowboy books Dad enjoyed reading when he had the time. There was other stuff too but it was the books that I pulled out in the kitchen area. I went back for the second crate when the garbage bags decided to fall on me and something raked my face and really hurt.

After I dug myself out I discovered I'd been literally run over by a runaway mountain bike. It was kid-sized and a little on the scratched up side so I doubted it belonged to the rightful owners of the fifth wheel. The hard rubber of the bike's tires torn up my nose and cheek so I went scavenging in the kitchen for a rag and realized there was another place that might prove fruitful and interesting.

I just started dumping things into the canvas shopping totes that I found under the sink. It mostly wasn't food ... the cans and jars that were left bulged and looked dangerous ... but there were some condiments in plastic bottles, two boxes of salt (one regular, one sea), a metal canister set with packets of raw sugar, packets of pepper, and similar items like they'd raided a restaurant, some jugs of cooking oil (only one was rancid and I buried the smelly stuff well away from my cabin to be used only if I got really hard up for some kind of oil lamp), and boxes and boxes of pastas and flavored rice dishes. I'd never seen so much rice-a-roni and mac-n-cheese in one place since I'd helped to stock the shelves at the Salvation Army Christmas food drive when I was twelve years old.

I couldn't get it all in one trip and had to come back to the spot three days running. On the last day I ran into Jamie who'd been sent by Mr. Svenson to see why I hadn't been around when he wanted to see me.

I had nearly everything out of the trailer that I thought I wanted except for the spare linens and after debating I finally asked him if he had an hour to hike with me to a site I'd found.

"Found you something interesting have you?" he asked. At my nod he said, "Must be something good or big if you need my help with it."

"Both. And it isn't that I need your help. I just want you to say whether the camp would want what I don't take."

"So what is it?"

"Fifth wheel," I told him after stopping to blow my still sore nose.

"That where you got the shiner from?"

I nodded. "Something fell on me. Inside is a mess. Note left in a Bible seemed to say that the woman involved was sorry that she'd helped to steal it from 'old white people'."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Where are the people that did the stealing? Did you kill them?"

I looked at him and glared, especially after I realized he was serious. "No."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

He stopped and grabbed my arm. "Look, spit it out. I know I'm not your favorite person in the world but I'm getting tired of having to drag everything out of you."

A nasty laugh escaped me surprising us both. I mumbled, "Sorry. Didn't mean to laugh it is just ... just strange. Everyone has told me my whole life I talk too much and now here you are suddenly telling me I don't talk enough."

He tilted his head and looked at me. "Well, I guess you've changed and we are still getting used to it. But to be honest, so long as we aren't hunting I don't mind it if you want to yack. If I don't want to listen I'll just tune you out; its what I do with Belinda. At least if you are talking I don't have to guess what you are getting into."

I held my tongue but just barely. Instead I explained what I'd found.

"Well, that's something now. And you sure it hasn't been disturbed?"

"It has ... by me. There's just stuff in there I don't want but might be useful to someone else. You look at it, see if it is worth the trouble otherwise I'm just going to shut it up after this next pile and forget about it."

We walked the rest of the way in relative quiet but once we got there and he looked around he said, "Houston, we have us a situation."


	62. Chapter 62

**Part Sixty-Two** ****

"Why?" I asked. "Did I poach on someone else's territory?"

I was worried until he shook his head. "No. Finders keepers is the rule with regard to salvaging. It's what is in those boxes there."

He was pointing to the crates where I had put the liquor and drugs that I hadn't already taken. The money no one would find unless they went digging under the cabin.

"And?" I asked him giving him a little bit of attitude back over what he'd given me.

He caught it and gave half a smile then turned very serious. "We had trouble with a lot of stuff like this for a while, even in Singing Waters. The only thing that stopped it was that it all disappeared and the best liquor that any of the camps can make is a kind of mead and the women pretty much claim most of the honey that gets found or syrup that gets boiled up for cooking. Uncle Carter plans on experimenting with maple sap this year but he'll have to do it around Dad's rules. This ... this will throw a monkey into things."

I shrugged. "So we dump it and no one has to know."

"No!"

I put my hands on my hips and said, "Why? Think it is going to get some bear or moose drunk or high?"

He snorted then shook his head. "I'll let Dad make that decision."

"Why dump it in his lap?"

He opened his mouth then shut it. Looking at me thoughtfully he said, "It ... it isn't dumping it in his lap. I've just never kept anything from him. And he is the leader of our camp. This stuff is too valuable to toss but it is going to snarl things up somewhat."

"You sound like we are back in the stone ages. If the drugs and booze are going to cause a problem then destroy them."

"Like I said they could be useful."

"Yeah. I figured that. But if ..."

He shook his head and looked at the drugs more thoroughly. Separating things out into piles, looking at the dates on the bottles. As he looked I told him, "Or ... divide everything up equally and have the leaders of the six or seven groups ... or however many there are ... come together and let them decide what to do with their share."

He shook his head over that one. "Only in a perfect world." He stood up and said, "I'll take some of this stuff to Aunt Paulette - she's the closest thing we've got to a doctor - the rest we'll box up and bury someplace."

"Don't look at me. I don't want it at the cabin."

"I wouldn't put it there even if you did want it. You ... you don't know what people can get like when they are forced to do without."

I snorted, "Oh don't I. I spent a year in the city and saw all sorts of things a heck of a lot worse than people with the DTs. So forget the drugs. How about the booze?"

"That's not much better of a problem. Dad won't be happy but I'll take that stuff to him. Aunt Paulette might be able to use some of it to sterilize her equipment."

"Not that stuff," I told him.

"And you know this how?"

"Alcohol content isn't high enough. You need something like Everclear or Vodka or really high test whiskey. That wine and junk is just for drinking or ... or maybe like I read in a book recently for preserving stuff in."

Carefully he said, "I'll mention it to Dad. Maybe he won't chew off my leg if I can come up with a way to use it that doesn't involve drinking it."

"Mr. Owen really against liquor that hard?" I asked thinking that I needed to really hide the bottles that I had in the cabin. I wound up making false bottoms in the footlockers and no one has noticed yet.

Chewing the ends of his mustache for a moment he finally answered, "He wasn't until last year. Now he has to be so black and white about everything. There's following the rules. There's breaking the rules. You follow the rules you've got no problems. You break the rules and you got big problems. Can't be exceptions or favoritism or there are even bigger problems. Uncle Joe really messed things up by bringing his party crowd friends with him. Dad has nearly thrown him out twice and one of those just recently when he got caught out paying a couple of women from one of the camps with supplies for ... er ..."

"Oh. That 'er' will get you in trouble every time."

Since neither one of us was comfortable with the topic we turned away from it and he asked, "How have you been carrying stuff back to the cabin. And don't tell me you haven't already taken stuff 'cause I see lots of empty space."

Shrugging I told him, "I improvised by making a kind of pull behind sled using a sheet of lumber from the top bunk in the cabin, some rope, and a mountain bike I found with all this other junk. It was fine while the snow lasted but there's only a couple of inches in places right now. Besides I've taken most of what I think I want. Cookware, a couple of dishes, mugs, silverware ... curtains off of some of the windows to make bed curtains with ..."

"Bed curtains?" he asked with a laugh. "Playing princess are you?"

"No and don't act stupid. I saw it in a book. Bed faces the heat source. Put curtains on the three other sides of the bed. Heat gets captured and held in. When you go to bed you pull the last curtain shut trapping that heat and your body heat in. The bunk above me keeps the heat from floating off to the ceiling and being useless. I'll split the covers and stuff that are left."

"Naw, go head and take them. Uncle Joseph and Aunt Ava have been worried you wouldn't have enough. That's why Uncle Joseph is helping you to work those furs so you can sew them together and have a warm covering for when things get really cold. That bear skin," and he had to stop and chuckle as everyone apparently now knew the story of the bear and the fruitcake. "That bear skin will go on the floor by your bed and will keep the cold from coming up through the planks."

I nodded as I knew the plan. We spent an hour piling things in two different stacks and then he said, "No food left in the place? Might be why the woman hung herself."

I shrugged. "You see what there is in those cabinets. It would have still be good when she was alive but I wouldn't risk touching that stuff now if I were you. One more freeze and those cans are gonna explode. There's a few that have already leaked in places."

He shook his head. "It's criminal to see all this has gone to waste. People were starving and yet here was a bounty that would have seen them through another couple of weeks anyway."

"Was it that bad over the summer?"

"For us no, for some yes. A lot of people ate and still starved because of what they were eating. Rabbit and squirrel - if that's all you're eating - just doesn't have enough fat to keep your brain working. And fishing only works if you have the equipment."

"What about spear fishing?"

"You know how much work that is?!"

"Better than starving," I told him.

He shook his head. "When you are only providing for yourself you can get by. But when you have a family or group depending on you that isn't going to fill too many bellies."

I thought of several questions when there was a noise and then the trailer suddenly rocked.


	63. Chapter 63

**Part Sixty-Three** ****

I fell to my knees and pulled the small pistol out of my pocket that I had taken from Jace's belongings and was juggling it while trying to hang onto it. I had used his rifle on the bear but was still trying to figure out why a casing was jammed making the thing a poorer club than my baseball bat. Mr. Svenson had decided the jam was a teaching moment and I had decided I didn't have the patience for it when I had another gun I could carry. My bat was still my constant companion so I also grabbed at it as it started to roll as the trailer rocked again.

"What the heck?!" I nearly yelled.

Jamie motioned for me to be quiet. There was another large bang and a dent appeared in the inside of the trailer but there there was a grunting kind of noise followed by lots of snorting and stomping. Jamie eased over to that side and looked out a window and he nodded. He jumped back just in time to fall over as the trailer was rocked again.

"Ok, I'm getting just about tired of this," I heard Jamie mutter angrily. He was shucking some kind of huge bullet into his rifle when the something went stomping and running off into the trees.

I was breathing heavy and trying to figure out if the puss brains in the area had turned into mutants when Jamie said, "Relax, it was just a buffalo."

Of all the things he could have said I'd never imagined hearing that. "Excuse me?"

"A buff - a - loooooow. They must have migrated over this way when Richardson Camp tried to hunt them and made them stampede. We think they originally came from the big preserve that replicated the life of the Native Americans in this state. They started a herd about five years ago and they really multiplied."

"Wait. Did you say buffalo?"

He stopped checking his rifle and glanced up and then chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah I guess it does sound kinda crazy now that you mention it. I guess we've just all gotten used to it after we ran into them last winter. Now that they aren't fenced in they come here in the winter where there is some protected fodder for them and over the summer word came to us that they migrate to the grasslands south of here and hang out with what's left of the dairy herds. Something must have set that one off ... or not; they're all half-crazy and will charge for the least reason. I guess maybe we should have said something before now."

"I guess so," I told him in a snotty voice. "Anything else I should be on the lookout for like ... I don't know ... lions or tigers or martians?"

He shrugged. "No lions or tigers but we've had lynx and puma sightings. The moose population has nearly doubled if the number we count is right so be careful when you get near the boggy land as they can kill you with one kick. And no martians, but martens can be wicked mean if you aren't paying attention where you are putting your hands. Uncle Mason and Uncle Noah tangled with one that stripped a whole rack of drying fish. And you do not want to get on the bad side of a badger. You remember what happened that year Todd and I accidentally caught one in our experimental hunting pit trap?"

I rolled my eyes remembering vividly the lecture that Fish & Wildlife had given both of them for hunting in the national forest without a permit and without approved methods and out of season which seemed to be the biggest problem. Getting the badger out had ultimately required tranquilizing it and pulling it up in a net.

I asked, "Did that Richard whatever group catch a buffalo?"

"Richardson Camp and yes, they brought it down only it wasn't dead, just stunned. When they went over to check it out it got up and gored two of their men to death. Uncle Carter brought one down in a pit but that was a pain in the butt to butcher and bring up out of there. I never want to do that again ever. We were happy to have the meat but there's got to be a better way and the uncles have been thinking on it ever since."

My mouth watered. "I'd give a lot for a steak or stew meat or anything like that."

Seriously Jamie said, "You shouldn't say stuff like that. The wrong person might hear you."

I shrugged understanding what he meant. "I guess. Besides, I'd never catch a buffalo and even if by some freak of nature I do I haven't got the faintest idea what I do with it except to yell for your grandfather."

"And he'd come running too. He thinks a lot of you DeeDee. I think you remind him and Aunt Ava of the little girl they lost."

I hadn't known that. "They had a little girl?"

He nodded. "She would have been older than Dad by a couple of years if she had lived. Her name was Delores only they called her Dee most of the time. She drowned one summer. The story goes she'd made a raft for her doll to float on and the string she had tied to it broke. She went in after it and got too far from shore or got tangled up in lake weeds or something. She hadn't been gone long when she was found but there was no resuscitating her. It's one of the reasons why the swimming rules are so strict in camp. You have to pass the swim test and get a wrist band or you have to wear a life jacket if you are near the water. We used to catch flack from some of the guests but ... oh you remember how it was."

"Yeah. I just never knew why." Funny the things you find out. I still don't know how I feel about it. I'm me, not some lost little girl. But at the same time I never wanted to disappoint Mr. and Mrs. Svenson.

Jamie said, "If you want to do something, send something back for them special. Even if it is completely useless it will make them feel like you are thinking of them."

I knew exactly what I could do. I sent a pair of really nice kitchen shears to Mrs. Svenson instead of taking them like I had meant to and for Mr. Svenson I sent one of those pillows filled with that stuff that you could warm up and then put in the small of your back or around your neck. I had found that in the storage closet with some spare bath towels.

A while later, the offending drugs and booze packed away or destroyed in a small fire, we were standing outside the trailer when Jamie said, "I really gotta get back. They'll be worried that something happened to one or the other of us. This haul will explain things but I still don't like to worry the folks. Plus, if you really aren't claiming it all, I know the uncles will want to strip the trailer and truck for anything usable like glass and pipes and such."

I heard a crunch and turned fast and had tossed a rock to hit when Jamie spoiled my aim. "Hey!"

"Ease up. It's Uncle Noah and Shane."

It took me a moment but I remembered that Shane was Mr. Noah's son and older than Jamie by a few years. "How do you know?"

"I can tell by the way they walk. It's ... I don't know ... different. They're both a little club-footed on the right side so they roll when they take a step."

Jamie whistled and the two men came on in. "Woulda let you know sooner but we run into some ..."

"Buffalo?" I asked in a foul mood.

"Ayup. And didn't want to startle any more that might be lurking about. Take it they were up here too."

Jamie goes, "Ayup." And then it was like I wasn't even there. Fine by me was my thought and I took one last look through everything before declaring myself done. I was stuffing my pack with the linens I had come for and preparing to leave when they finally got back to noticing me.

"Hang on DeeDee and we'll walk back with you."

I shook my head and said, "It's the long way around for you. I'll be fine. Besides, look at those clouds."

All three ignored me and after filling their packs and securing what remained followed me all the way back to my cabin.


	64. Chapter 64

Part Sixty-Four ****

It was both annoying and comforting that when we reached the cabin the men insisted on looking around to check for any boogey men. It was annoying because I didn't want to get tangled up with people that might wind up hurting me again; they hadn't wanted me in their camp so they shouldn't be acting like they were trying to take care of me at all. I didn't like the forked tongue routine because it made me feel like a charity case. But I was grateful too because despite everything I knew that it would be stupid to not count it as a possible asset to have the Singing Water camp sorta kinda think of me as a person worth something even if I wasn't one of them.

Yeah, I know that doesn't sound like me. I guess you could say I'm not one for a lot of "self analysis." A couple of those books from the trailer are those self-helpy kinda books. And yes, I got just that bored a few times that I wound up reading parts of them. Some of those romance novels from the trailer also had women analyzing themselves and other people in the story. I guess you absorb that stuff whether you mean to or not. Puss brains aren't the only reason you need bleach for your eyes.

Oh be careful little eyes what you see ... (or in this case read).

As for the rest of it, either Mr. Svenson or Mr. Owen made sure I got some of the stuff that resulted from them scrapping the trailer and truck. The frig was made up of too much plastic to make a smoker out of - or so said Jamie - so they said I could use it as a cooler if I wanted to. Even the "stainless steel" was really just fancy plastic. When the ground thaws a bit I'm going to try digging a "root cellar" under the cabin and putting the cooler in there. Haven't a clue whether my plan will work on not. I'm about three miles as the crow flies from the lake that Singing Waters is on and a little over a quarter mile from the creek I get my water from. The outhouse I use is on a slope on the downside away from both and is one of those fancy things installed by the USFS that is like a mini septic system that you empty from the back. It was disgusting when I opened that stupid hatch wondering what it was. Geez, smelled like a puss brain had crawled in there and wallowed around for a good long while.

Hopefully the distance from those three things - creek, outhouse, and lake - means that I'll be able to dig where I want to without hitting the water table but I guess we'll see.

Some of the aluminum I got did make a neat little smoke house though I haven't gotten to use it much. I will this summer as I am beyond tired of always being hungry. I use up as much energy hunting as I get calories from eating what I find.

I got two windows and Mrs. Svenson sent a note that they were to be used to make some kind of little green house box. What I am supposed to plant in the little green house boxes she didn't say though I have some ideas. Mom would have a snit at the idea that I'm going to try and grow dandelions but I learned to like them after Sherry showed me how to gather and eat them in the city. And there were some other things too but I haven't found a use for the stuff yet and it sets off to the side of the clearing that has developed around the cabin.

Not every week was exciting like that one. Most were very ordinary; dull even. After over a year of "excitement" I enjoyed dull just fine, at least in those early weeks.

Haul water. Cut wood. Hunt. Haul water. Cut wood. Hunt. Haul water ... well, you get the drift. And in between those things came the snow storms. During the storms I would stay in the cabin and read and exercise to keep from getting too bored. I also slept more. When two storms came back to back it was almost like I was a hibernating bear cub snuggled up in all the covers I could find with the stove going to keep me warm. I also finally puzzled out I had to pull back a piece on the rifle so that I could use tweezers to wedge the casing out. Mr. Svenson's only comments were, "Took you long enough" and "Teach you to keep your gun clean won't it".

The days were shorter, at least the number of daylight hours were fewer. It seemed for a little while that the sun would rise and then decide to get back in bed and set before I'd barely gotten going myself. That was ok, it kept visitors down to a minimum.

Mr. Svenson got sick from a cold that was going around in camp so I didn't see him for over two weeks. During that time I learned something all on my own. I accidentally discovered some edible fresh water mussels in the creek I use for water. How I discovered them was by being startled by a deer jumping out of the bushes and scaring me and then sliding into the creek up to my elbows. I felt what I thought were jaggedy rocks at first and went I pulled my hands up out of the icy water to throw the "rock" I realized what it was. Mom and Dad had liked fish and things like that so I knew what they were and how to cook them. I'm glad no one saw me dancing a jig to celebrate.

Those mussels were the first time I had done any serious cooking in a long time. Mom always said that there was cooking to get by and then there was cooking to enjoy it. Most of the time you tried to enjoy what you were getting by on but sometimes you couldn't. I'd been cooking to get by. That night I cooked to enjoy myself.

I only brought back a handful of mussels as I didn't want to strip the creek of a "potential renewable food source". Another lesson repeated in the books I was reading on how to live off the land. To be on the cautious side I also did what Mom had always done; I put them in a bucket of the water that I'd processed for drinking. She said it gave them time to filter out anything they had in them that wasn't appetizing for human consumption. When it came time to cook the mussels I got into the supplies that I'd found at the trailer.

One of the things in the cabinet was dried minced garlic; like a ton of it so I assume the man must have really liked to get his Italian on or something. I took some of it and added clean water and juiced the dried stuff back up. It already wanted to stink up the cabin so I put it in a plastic container that had a tight lid. After that was complete I heated some of the oil in a skillet with a tight fitting lid then put the garlic in the oil and fried it just enough that it was clear-ish. Then I dumped in the mussels and some white wine from those bottles I snagged for my own. It wasn't to drink but experiment with which was what I was doing.

I steamed the mussels in that hot mess until they popped open. Oh my gosh! Best thing ever! The only part that wasn't so good was the smell. I had to open two of the windows in the cabin and freeze my rear end off to clear the wicked smog out and then about an hour later a buncha dogs show up. Not nice puppies either but dogs that had gone feral. I was stuck inside for the rest of the day and all night.

The next day Mr. Carter came by to check on me and caught me scooping all the poop out of the clearing so I wouldn't track it in the cabin and re-stink up the place. Unfortunately, he found it extremely funny. (He would.) I had to listen to him hee-hawing for nearly a mile back to camp. Jamie and Shane came later in the day and after getting their own snickers in started tracking the feral pack. They said they tried to keep them thinned out because of rabies and the fact that they really are hard on the small game that is the life blood of all the camps in the area.

Trying to hunt that afternoon I had to agree with them. There wasn't anything to be found and if I hadn't been willing to eat more of the pickled turkey gizzards my stomach would have made it hard to sleep. Pickled turkey gizzards and cattails ... yum, yum. Uh ... no.


	65. Chapter 65

Part Sixty-Five ****

Because of the dogs affecting the small game I decided to get adventurous with something else as well. The book I was reading parts of at that time had mentioned that almost all the parts of the cattail were edible and I was wanting something fresh besides meat.

There isn't a whole lot of stuff in the winter compared to what is available in the other three seasons but there is still some stuff and cattails are the most reliable, especially around here where there is enough ponds and shallow water to provide cattails for anyone that wants them. I gathered a whole basket of the roots by just reaching down into the water and pulling them out of the dirt and muck. It was a cold and wet job for sure, but the point was that I was hungry and was willing to put up with it.

I headed straight back to the cabin after that and started a fire and warmed up while the roots soaked in some clean water I had in a big plastic dish tub (another find in the trailer). Then I had to scrub those puppies which meant getting wet again but I did it with rubber dish gloves on in front of the stove which made it less misery-inducing than it could have been. After they were scrubbed clean I separated the rhizomes from the corms. The rhizomes are the things that look like rope with all these hairy little roots on them. The corms are the itty bitty bits of new growth that will eventually pop up above the water line. The corms can be as small as peas in eary winter but the closer to spring it gets the larger the corms get.

The corms can be chopped and eaten as is (raw) or cooked (steaming or frying). They taste green, kind of like zucchini, is the only thing I can say about them and they satisfied something missing in my diet.

The rhizomes - a fancy name for a type of root - are the starch part of the plant and you use them a lot like you would any other root plant ... potatoes, turnips, carrots, whatever. You can slice and fry them, bake them, boil and mash them. I've tried them all sorts of ways but I think my favorite way is to use them in a hash of whatever meat I can catch.

The other cool thing about cattail rhizomes is that you can make a kind of flour out of them ... as in you can make bread. Not by itself of course cause it doesn't have what Mom called glueten which is a binder of sorts I suppose. But its what the books call labor intensive and requires a good, clean water source. You basically boil the rhizomes until you separate the fibrous junk from the soft junk. Take the fibrous junk out and let the water set until the soft starch settles to the bottom. Then you have to carefully get as much water out as you can. I use a ladle and skim off the water like skimming the melted fat off the top a pot of soup. When you've got a thick slurry left you strain that through a fine cloth to get even more water out. Let it drip a bit and then put that mush on a pan and dry it out all the way (so it won't sour) and then carefully save it. When you go to use it you have to grind it up really fine but its not too bad. I'm still learning - no wheat flour that's for sure - but if you don't mind flat bread my concoctions aren't too bad; more like crackers I guess.

The way I write it sounds like I'm sitting pretty with all the world at my feet. The truth is there isn't a single day that I don't know real hunger. Not that "my belly is growling" feeling to let you know you're due your next meal, but the bone deep hunger that tells you that something is missing and if you don't find it you're gonna die.

I guess that is what the puss brains must feel all the time too. I feel bad for the few that I've seen. Most people think of them as zombies - and when they get violent and stuff I do too - but they aren't. Zombies are only in the movies. And the winter seems to be even more cruel to them than to me and that's saying something. I watched one try and eat its reflection in frozen pond. Part of me thought that was hilarious, but the longer I've thought about that the more it has bothered me.

"Getting philosophical in your old age child."

I sighed. Sometimes Mr. Svenson treated me like I was two years old, or so it felt. I didn't appreciate being humored when I was serious but I couldn't pop off and be disrespectful back to him. Instead I kept my cool and said, "I don't know about philosophical but it just bothers me. I know they are sick. I know they have something wrong with them. I know they can't be fixed ... or at least not back to the way they were before they got infected. But watching that ... that ... puss brain try to eats its own reflection. It's like a metaphor or something."

"A meta-who?"

I rolled my eyes because Mr. Svenson was a lot smarter than he let on. "You know what I mean. Doc - that man I told you about that tried to take care of me back in the city ..."

He grumbled, "Lest said about that creature the better."

"Yeah, well, Doc was his own kind of sick sometimes but he also had some brains when he wasn't turning them to mush with pills. He didn't come on board until like two months after Moses formed the main body of the group. I think he was some kind of scientist or researcher or something and just got left behind when the last of those types of people bugged out of the city. Sometimes he talked like he'd escaped from them rather than gotten left behind." I shrugged. "Anywho, regardless of what he was, he was smart. He had all sorts of theories that made sense and he would also go all 'philosophical' like you are calling it. One time he and Jerry got into it real bad because Doc kept saying that there had to be some way to harness the puss brains, to make them useful to society. Jerry popped back that if that had been the case then they should have been able to train and harness all the leeches on welfare all the years its been around. Round and 'round it went with Doc saying things like people are a product of their environment and if ... blah, blah, blah. I guess it doesn't really matter what they were fighting about. Just that puss brain bothered me."

After giving it some thought Mr. Svenson asked, "Why exactly. If they're sick and broke in the head then we shouldn't expect any different than crazy from the infecteds."

"Are they?" I asked. "I mean I know they are sick but are they all broke in the head the same way? I've seen some puss brains doing things up here that I never saw them do in the city ... like use tools to get at something or put on more clothes to stay warm. I've seen puss brains act different - kinda smarter - when they are together in a horde; like they are working together and have leaders."

"Honey, I've seen animals do many strange things in my travels around the world. Monkeys using sticks like a tool to dig out termites. I've seen predators pick out the lame and sick from a herd and strategize how to take it down. I've seen chickens have a pecking order and the bottom of the order usually winds up dead without the farmer's intervention. I've seen mother birds play wounded to draw snakes away from their nests. All those things might seem like the animal is smart but mostly that is just instinct. What they do may look like humans but they aren't human and never will be."

I thought about that but then said, "But puss brains are human. They may look and act like zombies sometimes but they are just as alive as you and me."

He nodded. "True. But that only makes them accountable and if they pose a threat to you, you better not be wondering how human they are and start wondering if you can put them out of their misery before they kill you and then go on to kill someone else later."

"Oh I'll do what I have to but that doesn't mean I have to like it or feel good about it."

"Ayup. You just better not be feeling sorry for 'em too much. A little compassion is all well and good ... too much isn't going to make anything better and could make some things quite a bit worse. Both for those that aren't infected and for those that are."

It seems that that is true to some extent. Mr. Owen has been able to keep their radios running at the camp and they've heard stories that groups are trying to corral puss brains rather than let them be killed. They feed them like animals in a zoo despite the danger. Like Mr. Noah said, "It boggles the mind what some people will get up to."

I've even heard that some places are charging those people defending themselves or their families against a puss brain with murder; this happens mainly in the far western enclaves where the infecteds are under control somewhat. If any of those types knew about me they'd likely put me in the electric chair or in those re-education camps they are trying to develop to fit the puss brains for some type of work that will benefit society. Shades of some serious eewwwww right there.


	66. Chapter 66

Part Sixty-Six ****

Winter in the northern woods is not always kind. Right after the new year started there was a series of several ferocious storms back to back and some of the Singing Waters men decided to go around to all the camps in the area to see how folks were doing. I don't think they were doing it just to be nice though; more like Mr. Owen and some of the others liked to stay on top of things and know who might be desperate enough to try something stupid. That impression came from some things that Mr. Svenson, Jamie, and Shane said afterwards. They didn't blurt it out, I had to add up the sum total of things. It made me even more careful not to get or appear dependent on Singing Waters in any way.

Getting through the very deep snow was not easy. They couldn't take the mules and had to carry all of their supplies in their own packs. They were gone a week and only one of the camps offered them any sort of hospitality. The first two camps were making ends meet but just barely so the men opted to not stay and be a burden; of course they didn't know what was coming or they might have at least asked for a place to camp for the night. The next camp was so standoffish there was no telling how they fared. They were all but run off with knives and clubs. The fourth camp was the smallest known camp in the area and they were all dead.

Maybe it is that winter in the northern woods is never kind, some people just learn to live with it. But if some do, then some don't. The fourth camp - they never even bothered to name themselves - was made up of three family groups and two cabins of single men. After the investigating was over with it appears that it was a combination of things that killed everyone. Some was starvation. Some was sickness. But the greatest factor was probably the crazies of cabin fever.

There was no telling how long what had been going on had been happening. Nobody around here is a CSI even if there was a lab and tech set up for that. And no one left a convenient note or journal explaining anything. Nope, the men just ease into camp and start seeing parts of bodies.

At first they thought it had been a puss brain attack. I'm pretty sure that is the first thing that would have entered my mind if I'd seen what they saw all done over in frozen ice and snow. Rather than go into the gory details I'll just say the sad story went something like this. The people got hungry. Hungry people get crazy. You get hungry enough and crazy enough and your moral and social boundaries fall down. Then the weak get picked off first. They say to themselves, only one to die so that all might live and then we'll never say anything about it again. It will be our secret. Only help never arrives and the storms don't stop and there was so little to go around that you work out the pecking order all over again. One horror leads to another and if you compromise and do one horrible thing what else will you do? In the end there must have been a really siege battle, everyone hiding so they weren't the low man on the totem pole. Locked in those cabins it looks like even greater horrors took place. And in the end they all died, either by their own hand, by nature, or by murder.

It was a sickening job but all of the bodies and bits were put into one of the cabins and stacked however they would fit. The ground was too frozen to dig graves and even though it was a small camp there were still too many bodies for three men to deal with in the traditional manner. Then after going through the camp for anything that might be useful (and wasn't possibly contaminated in some way) the men threw all remaining burnables into the cabin and lit it. After they were sure it was caught they walked away and headed to the next camp.

Those folks apparently had had some suspicion of what was going on having run into the "crazies" a few times before the snow blocked them all in. Camps five and six have a coalition of sorts going ... one camp is made up primarily of single men of a certain lifestyle choice and the other was made up of more traditional family groups. They stayed separate in living arrangements but on big jobs they would come together and sometimes share ideas ... which is how the water wheel was started.

It was camp six that offered them hospitality. They are about as well off in their way as Singing Waters is but not as insular. For Singing Waters their camp was a lifelong lifestyle choice. For camp six they are just getting by until the puss brain carp calms down enough for them to move back into a gentler environment.

"You can never go home." That was Shane, always saying weird things like they are supposed to make sense.

Jamie snorted. I made the mistake of asking, "What do you mean?" even though I had a pretty good idea.

"I mean you can never go home. Home might still be there, it might even be home in your head. But you'll never be able to get back to the exact way it was in your heart. I tell you, it was hard to be my father's son again when I'd been out on my own for a couple of years."

"You'll always be your father's son," Jamie said with a sigh like he had some inkling what Shane meant but either didn't want to admit it or didn't want to think about it.

"Yeah. And I don't mind that part. I just meant that it was hard to go back under his authority 24/7. It's why I get out as much as I can so long as it makes sense."

I told him, "You don't fight that I can tell."

"No we don't. Mostly because I choose not to, but Dad doesn't always make that easy to do. They talk about young men always having to prove themselves. Well let me tell you, old guys don't exactly cut us young guys too much slack. They always gotta prove who's in charge. A couple seem to always be looking for someone to slap down or put in their place. Drives me nuts. I mean look at Uncle Daniel; good thing all he has are unattached daughters. And don't take this the wrong way Jamie, but I don't know how you do it. Uncle Owen is ... is ..."

When Shane fell silent like he was sorry he'd brought it up Jamie said, "Yeah he is. But I don't see as there's been a lot of choice for any of us."

Shane added, "Well at least you have Belinda."

A bark of a laugh left Jamie before he could stop it. "Oh sure I do. I get 24/7 watch dogs with her too. And her attitude. Man, if I had it to do all over again I'm not sure I wouldn't have taken that exit and just dropped her off at her parents like she had wanted me to. If Dad hadn't been screaming in my ear to get up to the camp as quick as I could with whatever I could bring I might have had some time to think and avoid this mess. Now she's stuck here not knowing what happened to her family or where they might be and I'm stuck being responsible for her."

He looked at me and said, "You better not carry tales to Uncle Joseph 'cause that's all I need. He already rides my case over her and Aunt Ava isn't any better."

Pressures, pressures, pressures. I guess there is some trade off to being alone. Both sides of the coin has its pros and cons.


	67. Chapter 67

Part Sixty-Seven ****

Yeah, by being alone there is a lot of carp you don't have to deal with. Like if you are PMSing you don't have to try and pretend you aren't. If someone else is PMSing you don't have to deal with it because they aren't around.

But when you are alone there are other things you do have to deal with. Like when there is a bump in the night there is no one else to share the burden of fear with. And when there are a bunch of bumps in the night - during a snow storm no less - you have to freak the heck out all by yourself. And when the door to your cabin bursts open and there is only one set of hands to deal with the situation.

It is the most terrified I have ever been. I've been scared plenty of times. Being scared isn't bad so long as you manage the fear. But being scared is not the same thing as being terrified. I was terrified right after Z-Day. It lasted a couple of days and then Sherry helped me get my feet under me. I was scared yes, but more disgusted and disturbed when I figured out what Sammy and John-John had been doing. I was nearly wet my pants scared during the attack that lead to Sunny's death and then nearly empty of all feeling at Jace's. Not even the stupid bear had terrified me because it was part of the natural order of things. But terrified? That night I was the same fourteen-year-old girl stuck in that dressing room while the monsters were outside eating her mom.

The storm had been raging for two days. This was a late January storm and a bad one at that. I think it is called a Nor'easter but I'm still not sure if that is what that storm was. The wind was so strong the first day of the storm that it blew ice through the chinking of the cabin, literally pushing some of the chinking into the cabin to make it happen. I hung sheets and blankets on all of the walls and they shivered and moved during the storm letting me know that a lot of the chinking - that stuff that is stuffed between the logs to fill the gaps - was missing or damaged. I put it on my to do list and dealt with it the best I could.

The wind didn't just blow from one direction but from this way then that, almost like a hurricane of snow and ice. I huddled by the stove or in my bed all the time trying to keep frostbite at bay. I was wearing most of my clothes, including the fur snuggie that I had fashioned.

My supper - a thick soup - was nearly boiling when I took it off the burner but ice cold before I could finish it. I had tried to light both the stove and the fireplace for more warmth but the wind blew the smoke down the chimney and nearly suffocated me so I put that one out as quickly as I could. The shutters were closed and tied down to keep them from being ripped open in the storm.

At first when I heard the thumping on the side of the cabin I thought that something had torn loose and was banging against the walls from being caught in the wind. But the banging did not match up with the rise and fall of the wind speed. It had its own beat, its own cadence. Then I thought maybe someone was lost in the storm and was trying to get help ... for all of half a second I thought that because then the thumping came from two then three sides. Next I thought some fool was out there trying to scare me then thought they weren't just trying, they were succeeding.

I was already arming myself when the banging started on the side of the cabin where the only door was. I was up and positioning myself - barely feeling the cold - when the cabin door smashed open. For a moment I was blinded as the wind whipped in and nearly blew the fire out in the stove. Worse, I hadn't cleaned the fireplace properly and ashes flew around the room, luckily though the cinders were all cold and did nothing but dirty everything.

Of course soot was the least of my worries. I was facing six people, thinking perhaps it was a raid by one of the other camps or people I didn't know about that were looking for easy pickings and decided to do it under cover of the storm to prevent Singing Waters from finding out. Then the hairs in my nose curled and it wasn't from the cold. Puss brains!

My time in the city kicked in and helped me to survive. I'm pretty sure my guardian angel - that being that I am sure exists but seems to prefer that I handle things as much on my own as possible - lent an unexpected hand. As I took on the lead attacker a heavy wind tore one of the blankets down from the wall and it fell over three of the puss brains and they fell together, ripping and tearing, as they tried to escape.

The first attacker was down with a crushed skull. They were moving slower than they might have and I realized they were frozen and suffering from exposure. Snow blind and skin nearly abraded from any exposed skin they were nevertheless dangerous. The second attacker tried to take a chunk out of my arm and I screamed in pain. That is when the terror hit me. I fought like a wildling, like the stories that Mr. Svenson told of the feral children of the forest. The thickness of what I was wearing prevented the creature from from breaking the skin but it gnawed on me like I was a bone, shaking me so hard that I dropped my bat and had a difficult time getting the pistol out of my pocket.

A third attacker was on me and I barely had time to shoot the second in the eye and then turn the gun so that the next bullet caught the third in the cheek. The third fell to the floor but was neither dead nor still but there wasn't time to finish her off because the three that had been stopped by the blanket were freeing themselves.

Not for long. I don't even remember picking the bat back up but I came to myself only after the mass under the blanket was flat and mostly unrecognizable. The third had recovered enough and was on the move without me realizing it. A white film covered her eyes where the cornea was either frozen or sanded away by the icy storm. It was blind but the soft tissue of the nose was still intact and it must have found me by smell and sound alone. It bit into my ankle and if I had thought it hurt when my arm was bitten, this time it felt like someone had thrown acid on my tendon. It took nearly everything I had left to detach her and dispatch her.

I fought for my life that night in a way I hadn't for what felt like months. And never had an infected actually latched onto me enough to bite. The puss brains had been so few and far between I had begun to believe I was safe from them ... at least until it warmed up. I didn't take into account what had been occurring; had no inkling that people to the south would even do what they did. When I did find out it was the same feeling I had when I learned that they'd cut the city off to save themselves.


	68. Chapter 68

Part Sixty-Eight ****

Blood froze where it had splattered and my eyebrows and lashes were frosting over as well. I looked at the gapping hole where the door had been and nearly cried. I know I was having a reaction but there just wasn't time for it. The cold would kill me as surely as the puss brains had tried. Then I realized if there were six there could be sixty. All wandering in the night and storm looking for a tasty bucket of sustenance named DeeDee. As a matter of fact, a picture of an old fashioned bucket of chicken kept floating through my head only instead of the bucket saying "original" or "crispy" it said "Spicy Popcorn Deandra Dawn". Oh yeah, I was on the edge all right. The edge of running into my own crazy.

I wasn't nice about it. There is a time for respect for the dead and a time that you just pray they are already where they are going and don't mind what you do with the shell they left behind. I pray that when I put a puss brain down that when they get where they are going they count it more of an escape than anything. Guess I'll know one of these days but I hope that it is a long, long time off.

I just tossed the mess that I had made of the puss brains down my stairs and out into the night, whatever it took to get them out of the cabin. I'd scrub the rest of the mess up later. I actually hoped wild animals would find the remains outside and carry it off so I wouldn't have to deal with that too. Then I manhandled the door back into the gap. It wouldn't stay up by itself because of the wind so I pushed and shoved what furniture I had in front of it to hold it up ... a five drawer dresser full of cans, the little frig full of dried smoked fish and cattails, and a folding chair I used as a brace to hold everything in place.

Cold continued to pour in where the door frame had been damaged so I shoved what I could into the gaps. The floor and walls were covered in frost, my drinking water (thankfully covered and undisturbed) was a solid block of ice, and the fire had gone out in the stove leaving me in almost total darkness except for what little light the wind up lamp created which itself was fast fading as the cold made it difficult for the batteries to keep a charge.

With the wind held at bay - definitely been reading too much of the Bronte sisters - I shuffled to the stove, my ankle and arm feeling like they were still being chewed on. I got the stove going but it only seemed to warm a couple of inches of space away from its surface. I wanted to look at the "bites" really bad but I knew if I took off my clothes to see them I would lose what little warmth I had. I also didn't want to be less than dressed if another bunch of puss brains showed up.

I stayed huddled up near the stove for the rest of the night, straining to hear any unnatural noise in the storm. Everything sounded unnatural after what I'd done - no matter how I might talk I'm beginning to admit I'm not immune to the emotional muck putting puss brains out of their misery leaves behind. I think I did hear something legitimately unnatural once or twice; and, after what I found when the storm finally blew itself out the next day I probably didn't hear quite a bit that I should have.

At some point I had fallen asleep, my body and mind shutting down both from shock and I suppose what was near hypothermia. I woke in pain. I had lost my balance in my sleep and fallen over on my arm. I nearly screamed; and would have if Moses's training hadn't been instilled so deeply. When I got my breath back I realized from the lack of sound that the storm was over. I got up and hobbled over, and after moving a blanket aside, I peered out a gap in the damaged door frame that it was daylight. I wasn't sure what time exactly but is was a couple of hours before noon if I was judging the angle of the sun correctly.

After debating with myself I finally moved everything out of the way and went outside. Not because I had any great desire to be out there but because I needed to take care of nature's call. I have to tell you the truth, I nearly had to change my underclothes whether I wanted to or not after finding that some puss brains had gotten so desperate they'd climbed down inside the outhouse. What is left of them is still there and I now keep a bucket in the cabin for at night because no way do I want to go through that again in the dark. Once was absolutely enough for multlple life times.


	69. Chapter 69

Part Sixty-Nine ****

The outhouse event over with if not out of the way I began to notice some odd bumps in the snow. I kicked the snow away thinking lots of big pieces of tree trash fall had fallen during the storm ... only it wasn't tree trash.

I turned in a full circle and everywhere I looked there were odd lumps in the snow. Terror was leaving behind fury. I had gotten to the point where enough was enough.

I stomped up to the cabin, kicked aside the screen door that was barely still hanging on by one hinge, and pulled the storage box from under my bunk. Out came the machete and sharpening thingie that Jace had given me. It wasn't a traditional whet stone like you would use on good knives, this thing was more for kitchen shears and stuff like that. Well I put an edge on that machete like you wouldn't believe and then stomped back outside. I tied a double layer of bandana around my face and then went back to the original "lump" I'd uncovered.

Popsicle puss brains. Grrrr. They littered the land for as far as I could see, even into the tree line surrounding the cabin. I had no idea if the cold had killed them or if they were hibernating or whatever it was they did when they got too cold, but no way was I going to wait for a thaw to find out. I had learned the hard way the first winter back in the city that trying to crush a frozen skull made my bat vibrate painfully all the way from my hands to my shoulders. It also took a lot more energy to dispatch a frozen puss brain that way. Some had preferred to do it from a distance using a spear to pierce the heart; however, many of the puss brains around here had too many clothes on and I couldn't be sure of it working the way I meant it to.

I know, I know. These aren't zombies or vampires or any other kind of thing that goes bump in the night. Well, they did go bump in the night but I just mean they weren't supernatural ... aren't supernatural in any way, shape, or form. They're humans; live ones, of a sort anyway. Sick humans. Humans that had become ruthless and unthinking. Their only goal was eating to survive and surviving to eat. They accomplished nothing but feeding off of others. They were sick, and as far as I could tell after dealing with them for so long, literally unable as much as unwilling to control themselves or make other choices.

I'm sure the history books and certain people will have lots to say on what I did that day; what a lot of us had to do to survive the invasion of the Northern Woods. I'm sure I'll not go around being proud and bragging about it either. In fact I've been told to shut up about it. And if this notebook falls into the wrong hands - and doesn't that sound all spy-ish and stuff - I'm sure it will be used against me and I'll wind up prosecuted for "crimes against humanity" and probably locked up as criminally insane or worse. But none of that stopped me. It was cruel work but it was necessary work.

Someone afterwards told me to think of myself as a soldier in a war. I suppose that could be true. But on that day all I thought about was how disgusting it was but that I was bound and determine to survive even if I was the last one standing. I was hours doing it. I'd go from lump to lump, kick the snow away and then deliver a single (usually a single anyway) chop to the back of the neck. Doc had devised this back in the city; he called it "the procedure." This served two purposes. First off it severed the spinal cord from the brain which stopped any possible movement from occurring. Secondly, it was humane because it stopped the brain from being able to send any kind of pain signals to the rest of the body. Those two points combined meant that there was too much damage for the disease to repair before the brain shut down permanently. And if it didn't, well you didn't think about that too much when you were putting the bodies in a pile to burn and dispose of.

Lucky for me the puss brains only spread out into the surrounding woods about a hundred feet and came nowhere near my creek ... at least not the up end that I used to get my water from. Also lucky for me that Jamie and Shane had enough sense to duck when they made the mistake of sneaking up on me.

"Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Put that thing down!"

I was exhausted and ... hmmmm ... let's call it what Ms. Austen would have. I was distempered. OK, let's not be polite ... I was in a raving fury.

I ground out at him, "I could have sliced you open you ... you ...!"

"Uh yeah. Kinda noticed that," Jamie stuttered looking at me with a growing temper of his own.

Shane said, "Knock it off. We should have whistled or something. She's probably been scared to death. Look it this mess."

"I see it," Jamie snapped. "Uncle Joseph is going to have a barrel of kittens and he's already had another attack."

"What?!"

My attention changed from the puss brains I'd been piling like cord wood to what I considered a more immediate emergency.

Both men looked perturbed to have let that cat out of the bag. Jamie walked off at my question and was busy counting the bodies - I was close to adding his number to them - when Shane finally said, "Aunt Paulette says it wasn't a full blown attack, more like a warning shot across his bow. He and Aunt Ava got blocked into their place and we couldn't get to them until this morning."

"Is ... is he all right? Mrs. Svenson? Anyone ... anyone ..."

"Get infected?" I nodded. "One of the single cottages. Uncle Joe left a note saying that one of the men panicked and tried to go out a window. They were just waiting on the other side of it and once the shutter was off ..." He stopped. "Dad and Uncle Owen and the others ... they're ... they're ... we all are ..."

"Grieving," I said finishing his sentence. Trying to think what I could do for them I asked, "Should I come ... you know ... take care of things? That way no one in the family ..."

Jamie's head jerked around and I thought he was going to blow but I'd completely misjudged him. "You'd do that? Even after everything?"

"What everything?"

"Us not ... not letting you in the camp. Holding you off, not letting you passed the gate, making you live out here and take care of yourself ..."

He sounded like he was getting wound up and I was desperate to shut him up. He was making me uncomfortable. I suppose I could have made an issue of it but it just isn't worth carrying a grudge of that size to weigh me down. "Whatever Jamie. For pete sake, get over it 'cause I have. Do I need to go down to camp or not?"

Shane broke in again and said, "Not. Uncle Joe took care of it himself. His note said to forgive him but that he was less of afraid of censure at Judgment than he was of what he'd have to answer for if he hurt his family."

I nodded and tried not to let it show how unexpected I thought that. Mr. Joe had never been my favorite of the brothers, especially given his friends. "Brave man. And thoughtful. I'm not sure that any of the Misters or the rest of the family see it that way right now though."

Shane shook his head. "They understand, they just hurt too bad to appreciate it. After what we've all had to do today ... and we honestly ... you know didn't expect ... well ... you're just a girl and all. Uncle Owen and Uncle Joseph are pretty cut up thinking ... well you know what we expected to find up here."

"Well then run back and tell them not to be, at least not over me. I've faced a horde more than once, but I suppose I have to admit this is even stranger than that. Why would one puss brain, much less a horde of them, march into the cold when usually they are doing everything to avoid it like a reptile would."

I turned toward him to say something else when there was the sound like a limb cracking and Shane dropped to the ground.


	70. Chapter 70

Part Seventy ****

There was another crack and suddenly I found myself face down in the snow.

Trying to clear the snow out of my orifices I squalled, "What the ...?!"

"Shhh! And stop wiggling!"

With just barely enough air in my lungs to squeak I told both Jamie and Shane, "Get off me!"

"Hush!" Shane snapped. Then, "Move Jamie. I've got her."

"You move," he snapped right back. "I've got her."

Jamie repeated, "I said I've got her!"

Shane came right back with, "You don't need her. You need to move."

I suddenly realized what a bone being fought over by two feral dogs felt like. I finally wiggled enough where I jabbed Jamie in the eyebrow with one elbow and Shane in the cheek with the other. "Ow!" they said in unison.

"You'll get more of that if you two tubs of lard don't get off me. I can't breathe!"

They only marginally uncovered me, and then one on each side the drug me into the woods and behind a large tree.

"Have you two lost your ...?!" Just that moment there was another crack and splinters from the tree we were behind added to the scratches that I'd given them just a moment before. "Uh ... Was that a gun shot?"

Jamie snorted in exasperation. "No DeeDee. You somehow must have hacked off the squirrels and they're throwing their entire winter supply of acorns at us with miniature rocket launchers."

Well, in my mind there wasn't any need for him to be that sarcastic but I guess all things considered he was a bit stressed out so I let it go. Then, of all the bad luck a single ricochet put both of my would be protectors on the injured list. The bullet hit a big bit of stone that USFS had drug up there keep the forest visitors from backing down what used to be an old forestry road. Two things then happened simultaneously. First the bullet had just enough velocity to go through the meaty part of Shane's upper arm. Second, a piece of that rock flew and caught Jamie in his eyebrow and it started to gush blood.

I could go into what kind of quick first aid I gave them but it would just be a waste of paper and pencil. I did what I did and I did it quickly and then my anger boiled over and I left the guys sitting there bleeding and with their mouths hanging open trying to grab me before I could make my escape. See, I had figured out where the shooter was. The jerk was using my own hunting stand. I'm ashamed to say that that was what really torqued me and not just being shot at and having the guys get hurt.


	71. Chapter 71

Part Seventy-One

I took the usual path that brought me in behind the stand only I was even more careful than I usually was. I'd learned to be crafty to avoid running into any of the men from the area and I added that to what Moses and Jace had tried to teach me. However, what was the biggest help was remembering the lengths to which I would go to spy on Toddie and his friends. They were good at getting away, I was better at finding them ... they just didn't know that and I had never enlightened them.

Once I got to a good vantage point I looked down. I couldn't see who was inside the stand, just the top of their toboggan covered head. They were dressed in a gray and white camouflage but were still moving around so much that I could see them ... yes them. There looked to be five of them. A couple were on the smallish side so they were either women or boys. I didn't care. I had to take action. They were bringing up what looked like a freaking rocket launcher. I'd come too far and gone through too much to get to Singing Waters. I might not have been living in the camp of my memories but it was someplace that was "mine" and it was relatively safe. OK, so I had just gone through a horde of puss brains that had busted down the cabin door, but that was still better than anything I'd had in a good long while. A door was fixable. There was no fixing a cabin that was blown sky high so I decided they just weren't going to be allowed to do it. I remembered as an afterthought to add they were not going to blow up Jamie or Shane either.

I looked around for a distraction then realized that the snow right above the stand was looking kinda dangerous. I usually had to clear it some or risk having it come down on me but these yahoos hadn't done that and I could see a big jagged crack in the overhang. The build up was also larger than I'd ever seen it.

I usually dropped the snow by starting a small landslide higher up and I was hoping that would work this time. As I made my way over I saw three more camouflage dressed people running to join the five; only running in snow isn't exactly what they were doing. They were chugging through the snow with the big one in front breaking the path. His body language said he was in a major hurry.

I got up there in a hurry and started pushing over a bunch of loose baby boulders that happened to be handy. And yeah, it worked. Kinda a lot better than I had expected because not only did the overhang of snow give way but the force of the slide went backwards as well as forward. The ground under my feet gave way faster than I could run away and I wound up skiing down the hill on my butt until I could grab hold of a tree and skinny up the limbs, all the while praying the pine would stay upright.

The noise settled down for about five seconds and then a terrific roar reached my ears. It wasn't another landslide. It wasn't the rocket launcher going off. It was the big guy that I'd seen coming this way.

"Who the hell gave you blinkety blankety blank wipes permission to requisition a blankety blinkety Stinger?!"

I heard a muffled, "The docs said ..."

"The docs?! The DOCS?!" I thought he was going to have a seizure right there. "How many times do you have to be told to clear their orders before following them?! The docs are the ones that got us into this mess you buncha filth and foul and filth and foul idiots! Get your sorry, good for nothing blankety blankety blanks outta here! If one hair on any civilian's head is damaged, I'll feed you to the damn filth and foul infecteds myself!"

All his yelling nearly caused another avalanche and did scare the snow hanging onto the ends of the pine branch that I was holding onto. I grabbed the branch with my arms and legs just in time as the snow let go of the pine needles and fell straight down on top of the righteously PO'd man immediately below.

The branch, relieved of the heavy weight of the wet snow, bounced up and down nearly throwing me off. I wound up hanging by my hands and sliding fast. Someone shooting up at me was the last straw and down I went with both the snow and a very large man who was still trying to dig himself out of it to break my fall.

We both let out a loud, "OOMPH!" He, with obviously more reason than me.

Someone yelled, "Don't shoot! You'll hit him too!"

Another someone yelled, this someone I recognized said, "That's right, don't shoot ... 'cause if you do we'll put a bullet in every last one of you!" Jamie ... subtle definitely wasn't his thing at all.

The man beneath me finally brushed the snow out of his face and then nearly went bug eyed when he saw me above him grinning. I said, "Hey Sarge. I do believe we have what you might call a situation on our hands."


	72. Chapter 72

Part Seventy-Two ****

"Why you little ..." Suddenly I was engulfed in a bear hug and then next threatened within an inch of my life. "I ought to turn you over my knee and paddle your behind so hard it will be a month of Sunday's before you'll even think about using your sitter!"

I snickered a laugh. "Sure, sure. But first, can you call your dogs off? I don't want them blowing up my cabin and my friends are already needing medical attention where they've been shot at."

From a short distance away I heard an exasperated, "DeeDee!"

That was Jamie. He was obviously unhappy with me revealing they were less than 100%. Sarge however took things in hand and blasted the men under his command. The ones that I had rolled over with the landslide were sent back to their base with their tails between their legs ... minus the rocket launcher which was being looked over by the two men that had come with Sarge. He barked out orders left and right for a couple of minutes.

Next he turned to me. "That was a good faith move. Your turn. Tell your guards to stand down. Lord knows we got a major problem on our hands and don't need to make it worse."

Turning I ran up into the trees. However, I didn't start going the correct direction until I was in the trees and out of their sight. Jamie and Shane met me and I could see they weren't happy. Not a thing I could do about that so I just told them to remember my stories of "Sarge" and to come out and meet him if they wanted.

I took off back at a rabbit lope and then skidded to a halt in front of Sgt. Watson. "They might come they might not but they've put their guns down ... temporarily. I'm not going to go any place I don't want to go," I told him so that he understood I wasn't going to be marched any place for my own good or anything like that.

He nodded then said, "So this is where you ran off to. Everything you hoped it would be?"

I shrugged. "Little girls grow up and dreams and memories are nothing but stardust."

"Another one of your folks' sayings?"

I shook my head. "No. That one is original to me. It means that things are what they are and were never going to be anything else." After a second of mutual silence where I could tell he was trying to unknot what I'd just said I asked, "Didn't the Sheriff tell you where I went? I left him a note." Strictly speaking it wasn't a note but Sergeant Watson didn't need to know that. Then he got a flat look on his face. I'd seen that look too many times not to know what it meant. What little good I was feeling fell away like it had never existed. Quietly I asked, "When and how?"

He put a hand on my shoulder and said, "About a month after you left the town was overrun when some damned experiment failed."

Cautiously I asked, "Did someone put him down? Take his suffering away?"

Trying to be kind he said, "It never got to that point. He was inside the power plant with some others trying to disconnect the experiment's electrical source when there was an explosion. He died a hero just like he lived. Took out enough of the infecteds that we could evacuate those few people that had been smart enough to take some of your words to heart. It was a lot fewer than we should have been able to save but it was more than what would have made it a month earlier."

I was afraid to ask. "And Lee?"

"He's alive."

I could hear that there was more to the story and asked, "What?"

"We can talk about it in a bit. First though ..."

"No," I told him. "We'll talk about it now."

"DeeDee ..."

Then from behind Sarge another voice from the past spoke up. "He don't want to hurt your feelings."

It took me a moment to recognize him. Cochran of all people. Yet it wasn't him ... or the same him. His face held a hardness that hadn't been there before. That didn't bother me. What bothered me was the idea that I was somehow being protected against my will. "I don't have too many feelings left to hurt so you might as well go ahead and spit it out."

Sarge shook his head. "Later."

"Now," I said, refusing to give ground.

Cochran sighed and repeated, "It's just a matter of hurting you DeeDee. And it's a long involved soap opera. Lee ... look, he ... he's with ..."

Both men looked at me and realized that I wasn't budging. Finally Sarge just shook his head and said, "He's alive but he's dug himself a deep hole of misery. The damn fool boy was messing around with the wrong girl and after the tragedy that struck the town it came out and a lot of people ... not that there were a lot left mind you ... a lot of people turned on him. He got comfort from the quarter he shouldn't have and now ... er ..."

He faltered and I looked at Cochran who finally said, "Dumb ass got Michelle Hanson knocked up. Apparently their ... er ... relationship started as a way to control the Sheriff through Lee and wasn't supposed to go as far as it did but it did and she is and there's a mess."

I gave their words some thought and decided then and there that something must be wrong at me because I wasn't feeling much and what I did feel seemed to be coming from a long distance away. I asked what was of more immediate concern to me. "So you coming here was just a coincidence?" The two men looked at me and then at each other. I snapped, "What? Did you expect me to pull a drama queen or fall to my knees in despair?"

Sarge said, "Well, to tell the truth ... yeah. I thought you and that boy ..."

I shook my head. "There never was a 'me and that boy.' We were friends. Maybe if the world hadn't changed it would have been more than that but we were just kids when it did and we got spun off into different directions. So maybe I did have a little girl's crush on him at one point. But I'm not a little girl anymore and haven't been for a while. I'm sixteen ..."

A voice from the bushes asked, "When did you turn 16?"

Jamie. Typical. "A couple of weeks ago."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"'Cause I didn't. Now leave me alone about it." I turned back to find Sarge and Cochran sharing a look. "And you two knock it off too. Geez, guys seem to be worse about thinking everything is about romance or sex than females are."

Cochran asked, "Just now figuring that out?"

I gave his question all the consideration it deserved which is to say none. Instead I blew them away by saying, "I knew about Lee and Michelle. I caught them doing some serious making out when I was on my way out of town. I figured it had to be something like you described it ... manipulation or whatever ... I just figured Lee had more sense. I even warned him. And if not him then her to have more sense than to wind up ..." I stopped and then asked, "What about her mom? Dr. Hanson?"

Sarge shook his head. "I'm not talking about this standing around in negative degree weather. It's too damn cold for it."

"This isn't cold. Cold is what it was last night when the puss brains broke down my door. Speaking of which you know you're going to tell me why I've had to clean up a horde today and had you show up right behind it?"

The look on his face said that was another story and one that I wasn't going to like any better than the first one I had to drag out of him.


	73. Chapter 73

Part Seventy-Three ****

"Come back to my cabin with me and I'll show you all the puss brains we had around here."`

"Kid, I want to talk to you like you don't know but I've got to find a couple of guys that have gone missing from one of the camps around here."

"What camp?" I asked since I had gotten to know quite a few of them of them over the weeks.

"Place called Singing Waters. They went out to check on someone and ..."

I sighed. "Well Sarge, you're in luck. Your boys just about shot them up but they aren't too far off."

"Oh s #$."

"Hey! That wasn't nice."

"Sweetheart, this isn't a nice situation we've got here." He turned to the woods and gave a piercing whistle. "Yo! If you boys are James and Shane and you're still in the woods you better hightail it home on the quick. Your pops is not one bit happy right now."

Shane cautiously came out of the tree line followed by Jamie. "We aren't going to leave her," he said throwing his head in my direction.

"Aw knock it off you two. This is Sarge. I told you about him."

"Yeah you did. But that's who he was then. Do you know who he is now?"

I was going to give him a snotty comment but then I stopped and turned to look at the man in question. I looked at him good and hard and then turned back to Shane. "I know enough that he could have taken advantage of me then but that he didn't and he could have tried to fool me this time around but he didn't. What's the measure of a man except his deeds?"

Jamie sighed. "Please don't start talking like again. It makes my head hurt."

Sarge looked at me like I'd grown a third eye on the end of my nose and asked, "What in the Sam Hill did you just say?"

"Can't a girl try and sound a little educated every once in a while without you guys sound like you are going into shock or something?"

Sarge snorted. "Oh. Is that what you're trying to do. Sounded more like one of them silly books my sister the English teacher was fond of reading. I take it you've picked up the habit same as most females."

I shrugged. "Not really, but boredom and a small bookcase limits my options of keeping myself from developing cabin fever." I shrugged again. "Now that you've found the two 'boys' do you want to come to the cabin or not? Pickings are a little slim but I can make some soup or something and some stewed cranberries."

He gave me a smile. "Seems like I remember a similar circumstance the first time we met. How about I pick up the tab this time?"

Since his offer was genuine and because I wasn't kidding about pickings being slim I accepted. He turned to Cochran and the other guy and asked, "Any gear left behind?"

Cochran said, "Only the Stinger Sarge. They even remembered to pick up all their casings."

"'Bout time they managed to do something right," Sarge muttered like he wasn't talking to anyone but himself. "All right. Let's head out. Keep your eyes peeled for any strays."

"Stray whats?" I asked.

"Infecteds," he answered.

Before we could go any further Shane says warningly, "DeeDee ..."

"Oh for ... what now?!" I wanted to know.

"No way is it proper for you to be alone in your cabin with five men."

"What five men?"

"Those three and us two."

"Who said you were invited?" I sassed him.

"Uncle Joseph and Aunt Ava said we were to always keep an eye out for you and ..."

If I hadn't been trying to act dignified to prove to Sarge I wasn't a little kid I would have gobsmacked Shane in the face with the biggest wad of snow I could.

Just then the third guy pulled down his parka hood and said, "Are you kidding? Do I look like chopped liver these days or what?"

See the "guy" wasn't a guy, nor a him of any variety. Him was a her. Shane and Jamie both stood there with their mouths open and their tongues hanging out. I suppose from a guy's perspective they had reason. She was tall for a woman, like all the Singing Waters men were, but she was also about as red headed as you could get. And even I had to admit that her eyes were really pretty now that she'd taken her snow goggles off.

I sighed and said to no one in particular, "Please excuse them. Most of the females around here are either their relations or covered in fur. Jamie there is spoken for but only kinda sorta I think. Still ... a fresh face and ..."

Jamie and Shane shouted in unison, "DeeDee!"

Sarge barked an amused laugh. "Same old mouth."

I nodded. "Same old mouth. So are we going or not?"


	74. Chapter 74

Part Seventy-Four ****

"You move through this stuff pretty good," Sarge huffed and puffed as he had to break a fresh path through the snow.

"Good enough," I agreed. "You can get used to anything. Plus I'm lighter and don't break the snow down as much. I walk on it, not through it." We were passing one of my traps and I said, "Hang on." Sure enough there was a rabbit frozen stiff caught in the snare. I turned to the rest of them and said, "Something to add to the pot."

Sarge asked, "What do they forage on this time of year?"

"Not much which is why they are kinda scrawny but some meat is better than none. And I need the fur for my project. Mr. Svenson is teaching me and I'm making some fur-lined moccasins for myself for when these boots wear out."

He nodded then added, "You've learned some new skills or did you come here knowing how to live off the land."

I shrugged but only he was close enough to see me as everyone else was spread down the path we were breaking through the snow. "Both I suppose. It was learn and practice or starve. I'm still not as good as I want to be, not as good as I need to be, but I do all right."

Jamie and Shane ranged a little ahead and then whistled back. I told Sarge, "We've got company at the cabin. No danger but let me check to see who it is first."

I jogged up and into the clearing to find Mr. Noah and a couple of the other Misters. "Geez," I muttered disliking their focused attention.

Mr. Noah walked up to me and took me by the shoulders and asked, "Are you OK Child? Uncle Joseph won't rest until he knows for certain."

"Well someone run and tell him I'm fine. He doesn't need to be out in this cold or get upset. The boys told me he'd had another near attack."

He turned and said, "Jamie, Shane, get home. Have Paulette look at you. I guess we have some settling to do here."

"Oh no you don't," I said forcefully. "I don't mean to disrespect the Misters but Sarge has already rung everything but blood out of the ones that did this. I have a feeling he isn't done with them either. And if you set things off I might not be able to find out what is going on. Let me do what I can and I promise I'll tell you what I find out." He opened his mouth to say something but I stopped him by saying, "And I'm awful sorry about Mister Joe. But it sounds like he did what was necessary and honorable. I'm sure that Mr. Owen wants the family all together during this time."

Mr. Carter came up and it was one of the first times I'd never seen him with laughter hiding in his eyes. "You're right about what Owen wants, but he wants you to come too."

That I hadn't expected. I took two steps back. "I appreciate it Mr. Carter ... I really do. But ... but this is my place and ... look, I don't want the family to be seen by anyone to be taking in strays. Other people might get the wrong idea and try and take advantage. Let's wait until things settle down before we start making those kinds of decisions."

Mr. Noah and the other Misters that were there nodded slowly, some reluctantly and some not, when Mr. Carter looked their way. He turned back to me and said, "OK. We won't force you but something needs to be done about that door. So long as you barricade it tonight you should be fine. I'm sure Owen will want to send some of the boys out here tomorrow to see about rehanging it properly."

Then Sarge made a bigger production than he normally would about coming into the clearing. I think in part it was so he wouldn't startle anyone but I also think he was smart enough to have listened in a little bit.


	75. Chapter 75

_**Part Seventy-Five**_

The Misters left taking Jamie and Shane with them for better medical attention than the little bit of first aid I had been able to provide. They also gave Sarge, Cochran, and the woman - who turned out to be named Guinevere Lancelot of all things - what Dad would have called the hairy eyeball. I'm not sure I get what that means exactly but I recognize it when I see it. Sarge didn't say a word about their attitude and the other two took their cue from him.

I skinned the rabbit double time and then did what needed doing with the fur while Sarge and the others looked around the yard, taking note of what I'd done that morning. After the Misters were out of earshot I said, "They are decent people, you just shot two of their kids up is all. And they're Northerners ... they like to take their time getting to know people."

Sarcasm dripping from every word Sarge asked, "Is that all?"

I shrugged. What could I say? It was the truth.

Cochran wasn't shy though and said, "We didn't shoot those guys up, those bonehead recruits from the refugee camp did. I still can't believe they tried to use a Stinger. What they heck were they thinking?"

Gwen answered, "They weren't, that's the problem. They let other people do their thinking for them. I warned command about the problems using know-nothings would cause but they had their ears shut. Those types make good cannon fodder, but they're not so good for tactical and political situations. The docs prefer dumb troops and probably told them to take it and they just accepted the order without question never even taking into consideration the docs don't know what they are talking about three-quarters of the time."

I looked at the three of them. "OK. Why are things so messed up and how did they get this bad?"

Sarge said, "Stinger. Wrong tool, wrong tactic, wrong circumstances. Docs. Wrong authority, wrong logic, wrong everything. Recruits. Wrong tools for the job, and shouldn't be here in general."

"Uh ... that makes things less than clear," I told him. Sarge rolled his shoulders like he was too irritated to explain. Dad used to do that sometimes during a particularly bad case or after a bad day. I did what Mom did when faced with a grumpy man and started food and some warm cider. The cider is something I make from the pruned up leftover fruit I sometimes run across on wild apple trees. Sometimes I throw in the dried up cranberries I find in the boggy land to give it a little extra pucker. I don't find that stuff often so I'm stingy with what I have but I figured that I'd make an exception since I had guests and one of them a "long lost friend."

The stove was soon going and Sarge tossed me a big can of something called Muligatawny stew. Cochran and Gwen looked at each other and and from their packs they added a can of beans and a can of carrots. As I looked at what I had to work with, I wondered at something.

"Why are you all carrying heavy cans instead of that military junk that is lightweight?"

Gwen answered, "There isn't any of that military junk left ... at least not in our sector. It requires special processing to make it shelf stable and production capacity is all but nil right now." She must have seen something on my face because she said, "Marketing and Manufacturing was what I was going to school for before I was drafted a couple of weeks after Z-Day. You know what that is?"

I decided not to be insulted and simply answered, "Yeah."

"Good. Then hopefully you'll understand what it means. With very little being manufactured in this country - or anywhere else while this pandemic continues - that means that the military, rather than get their supplies from a central shipping point from the government, has to feed itself out in the field. Totally unconstitutional what was going on for a while - forcing towns to take on and support military units in exchange for security - but little by little bases have been retaken from the chaos and that has allowed the armed forces to start being more self-sufficient. Means a lot of grunts but then again, that's the kind of work it is for the most part. Hungry troops are sloppy and uncooperative. Put food in their bellies and things run a lot smoother. We've also built penal institutions that grow and manufacture useful items for the public good as part of their restitution to society."

I glanced at Sarge and he snorted. "She's clean. I know she sounds a little like the damn eggheads but she's proven to be on our side."

I shrugged. "None of my business."

Gwen sighed. "Maybe not in a technical sense but I'm not fond of making enemies that I don't need to. It isn't the least constructive. Major Watson has spoken of you fondly and I don't want my presence to be an issue here at your unexpected reunion."

I'd think about the rest of it later but something else had caught my attention. "Major Watson?"

Sarge only snorted. I looked at Cochran and got a half grin and then it faltered. He looked at Sarge who refused to explain then at me. Keeping a look out to make sure he wasn't going to get his head bit off Cochran said, "Battle field promotion."

"I only ever watched old John Wayne movies with Dad but even I know that's a lot of jumps in rank in a short period of time."

Sarge finally sighed and decided to see if one of the few chairs I had would hold his weight. "Long story short ... Cochran is right as far as it goes. But listen here Kid, that rank that is hung around my neck doesn't change things much. I'm still getting dirty doing whatever it takes. The only reason it happened at all is because there are so few available to be out in the field."

Gwen added, "While that's true Major, you know it is also a matter of being willing, able, and capable as well."

Sarge did that shoulder role again. I asked, "So do I go around calling you Major now instead of Sarge?"

"No," he answered forcefully and a little angrily. "You call me anything else and we'll have words. Like I said Kid, the promotion is mostly just for show. Chain of command. All it means is that I get my butt chewed on a little sooner and a little more before it rolls downhill."

"Ok, ok ... I didn't mean anything bad by it. I just wanted to know."

Sarge sighed. "Sorry Kid. I know you didn't. Seeing you here in the middle of this mess ..." He stopped for a moment and then looked at the other two and then back at me. "What I'm going to tell you right now is that you don't say a damn word about what you did here this morning. Not a single damn word to anyone. You hear me?"

He couldn't have been more obviously serious if he'd tattooed it on my forehead. "Why?"

He growled a little bit and I thought it was because I'd asked why but then he growled a little more and said, "What in the hell were they thinking? Just what in the hell and then to do this?"

I was more confused than ever. It was like being able to hear only one side of a phone conversation. "I'm obviously missing some important facts here because nothing you said made a whole lot of sense." I looked over at Cochran and Gwen but got no help in that quarter. If anything they looked more serious than Sarge did.

Finally Sarge said, "Kid ... DeeDee ... I know you need an explanation and I'm gonna do my best to give you one so you'll understand how bad and how serious this is but there are somethings you are just going to have to trust me on. And try and save your why's until I've got most of it out. It'll save time."

I nodded and he started.

"Some of it goes back to your little appearing and disappearing act. I'm not saying any of this is your fault or responsibility because you aren't but if I have to have a starting place for my part that would be it. You got people thinking. Not a lot of people at first but enough that the condition became infectious to more than half of the community."


	76. Chapter 76

_**Part Seventy-Six**_

I wanted to start asking questions right away but I bit my tongue since I'd agreed to give him a chance to tell it without interruption or distraction.

"It probably goes back further than you showing up but I'm going to call that point my personal awakening. I certainly became aware that I was getting used and manipulated." I assumed he was talking about Dr. Ponytail but I didn't say anything because behind the anger I could see a little bit of sadness as well.

"So you come, stir up trouble with a capital T, and then you take off making sure that enough people know it was because of how you'd been treated and that you didn't like being called a liar. You also left little gems like there were still uninfected people living in the city and how what some people had assumed had made them safe was bound to sooner rather than later come to an end. In other words you scared people ... scared them into thinking. Scared them into realizing they weren't nearly as safe as they had thought they were ... had been told they were. Scared people into questioning the people that claimed to be in authority over them. You made them wonder who was the liar ... the people that had said they'd come from this city - not just you but those that had come before you - or was it the people in authority that were lying. Then when word got out that command had broken down and the docs had hidden that fact to maintain their control over the town ... well the crap really hit the fan. A few were preparing and a few were panicking but neither group was very large. Mostly people were thinking which was good start, but as it turned out, too little too late."

Gwen said, "I wasn't there for that part but I've heard that what really brought things to a point was when the Sheriff called that town meeting after finding out about the experiment the scientists were about to conduct."

Sarge nodded. "Yeah, that did it all right. The egghead docs had apparently been experimenting with captured infecteds - they called them specimens if you can believe that - and claimed to have found a way to use sound as a nonlethal way to control them. I saw one of their videos and what they said was controlling them was little more than herding them from a secure point A to a secure point B."

Against my best intentions I stopped him and asked, "Did the sound hurt them to push them or excite them to call them?"

He jumped up and pointed at me but seemed to be talking to other people. "See?! Even a girl child has more sense than those damn eggheads. She asks the questions no one else asked."

He stormed around as much as the little cabin allowed then leaned against the wall for a moment breathing hard before sitting back down. In a highly agitated voice Sarge said, "If that question had been asked there'd be hundreds of people alive today that didn't have to die or be infected."

I almost forgot to stir the pot but caught it right before it scorched the bottom of the kettle. Deciding it was as warm as it needed to be - nearly volcanic while the heat lasted - I started putting it in bowls. Sarge continued by saying, "Hindsight is 20/20. If you watch it more than once you can see that it is actually pretty ambiguous. All it really shows is a scientist saying what the infected 'specimen' is going to do, then a button getting pushed followed by the infected specimen doing exactly that. Only a few people wondered how many times they had to try that until they got the result they were looking for or whether the video had been spliced or photoshopped; and no one was openly wondering how the device actually worked. The eggheads had gotten it so that people didn't think they could understand their work ... that the average guy wouldn't be able to understand any kind of explanation ... so people didn't ask for it to be explained; they sure didn't ask the commonsense questions like you just did."

"So was it some kind of new gun or something?"

Sarge snorted. "The mistake would have been found sooner if they'd started out small like that. But oh no, no they wanted to start big. They put the same sound boxes on the wall, only made them bigger, and then they mounted them on smaller and smaller circle perimeters around the town. The ones furthest out were battery operated but the ones closest to town were powered directly by the town electric plant that was run from the dam."

My mouth was hanging open. "Wait, are you saying ...? Any kind of sound attracts the puss brains. If they are hungry nothing seems to hurt them enough to stop them. Putting out a bunch of noise makers would be like putting lunch bells out that never turned off."

"Pretty much Kid ... that is pretty much exactly what happened."


	77. Chapter 77

_**Part Seventy-Seven**_

Everyone stirred their stew for a moment before shoveling it in their mouths. These days, no matter what is happening, you have to fuel your body when and where you can. The story upset me but it didn't stop me from eating.

Knowing I wouldn't like what I heard I still asked, "How long did it take?"

"Two days after activating the sensors on the wall we lost contact with every patrol out that direction. A patrol was sent out to check on them and never returned. We didn't have to wonder after that because the leading front of the biggest number of infecteds I have ever seen - up to that point - was bearing down on the town. A few of us figured out what had happened right off ... come to find out there were a few of the docs and their staff that were against deploying the sound boxes but they were ... er ... shut up."

At that point I was dying to know two things. What did he mean by "up to that point" and how were the dissenters "shut up"? I didn't say anything though because Sarge kept on rolling the story out.

"There was no fence or wall that was going to keep out that horde. The scientists were just plain freaked out by how wrong they had been proven to be. They'd put just about everything they had into the boxes being successful at controlling the infecteds. When the proof that it didn't was staring them in the face several of them simply shut down, unable to process their total failure and its consequences. The rest made their escape using vehicles only a very few had known they had - I didn't at the time and I've made it my life's work to make sure they don't have any more secrets like that. I also make sure they are in the thick of it so that their personal skin is on the line ... none of this arm's length crap. If we bleed then they bleed." It took effort but he controlled his obvious anger and got back on track. "But that's now, back then all we could do was organize a mass and immediate evacuation of as many as we could. We tried to grab the kids and old folks first but it was like trying to grab and hold onto water with your hands." He stopped and gazed stonily at the stove pipe so hard I expected the poor thing to shiver. When Sarge started talking again his voice had a dead quality to it.

"Thanks to the damn eggheads we'd lost the confidence of the people; no one wanted to listen, all they did was panic or run off on their own. Vehicles left the compound half empty. Our armory was emptied by the mob. Those that prepared had a better chance but there are never any guarantees. Most of those that tried to prepare got out of town but not all of them made it to safety. A bunch of folks got caught in the cross fire as too many panicked and were fighting to get onto what vehicles remained. We were overrun almost immediately. We grabbed who we could and threw them in what armored vehicles we'd managed to maintain." He paused and said, "I used to fish down in Key West a couple of times a year. One time I went shark fishing with some buddies and one of the guys accidentally - accidentally on purpose you might say - chummed the water up more than was wise. It started a shark feeding frenzy. Scariest damn thing to be in the middle of. The freaking fish were trying to take chunks out of the boat and it was rocking as it took multiple hits from some of the biggest monsters I've ever seen in the water. A couple even tried to swim up into the boat. Those panicked people and the infecteds acted just the same. They were all just crazy."

I noticed Cochran shuddered so bad he nearly dropped his bowl. He caught me looking and carefully set both spoon and dish down and stuck his hands in his pockets and walked off to stand outside even if it meant freezing his butt off. All Sarge did was nod at Gwen and she followed him out. Then he turned to me. "Cochran got left behind by his patrol. We found him during clean up two weeks later up in the attic of the school, half surviving on rats and water from the pipes. It was another week after that before he said a single word. Realistically he should have been discharged straight to the booby hatch but Command doesn't see it that way. He's better than he was but ..."

"But you keep him with you to keep an eye on him."

Sarge nodded. "He refuses to talk about what he went through but whatever it was it gave him an insight into the way infecteds act that has helped tactically when we are planning operations. I keep him on my staff because I can and frankly 'cause it's owed him. He gave up his seat on one of the last transports out when several little kids were found running around all alone. I reassigned him to another vehicle but the message never got where it was supposed to go. SNAFU."

"Will he be OK?"

"I think he will. But he needs time he isn't going to get for a while if ever. At least I can make sure ..." He stopped and shrugged.

"There's no such thing as a sure thing. There never was," I tell him. Then I told him a brief synopsis of what went on after I left and went out on my own. "So you see ... even I've had to learn life isn't fair all over again and I thought I'd learned it pretty good the first time around. But something tells me we still aren't through. For instance, why exactly are you here? I don't mean in my cabin but here here ... I mean here on the heels of this winter horde, a thing that shouldn't exist unless the puss brains have gone through a change or something."

"Or something," he said nodding.

"And that something would be?"

"The damn docs."

"Is this another experiment gone wrong?"

He shook his head. "In their eyes this is an experiment gone right."

"Right?!"

"Just let me tell it DeeDee. It won't change the fact that they're a bunch of dumb asses but at least you'll see what we are up against ... and what you're gonna be up against."

I didn't like the sound of that at all.


	78. Chapter 78

_**Part Seventy-Eight**_

"What you are going to have to understand is that the infecteds aren't zombies."

I rolled my eyes. "What do you think I am? A little kid? Zombies are nothing but spook stories. Puss brains aren't dead, they're ... they're sick with an incurable disease that makes them very violent and ... uh ... very antisocial."

He gave me a look and then a very strange grin. "You have no idea how much you sound like the docs."

That twisted my guts. "Now just wait a minute. I didn't do a thing to deserve that kind of insult."

He shook his head. "Calm down Kid. I didn't mean it as an insult ... or compliment. Just saying that that's what you sound like."

"So?"

"So this ... the difference is in what you do with that kind of statement. For you it is simply a fact. Sure they're people but they're incurable. To you putting a violent infected down is more putting the person out of their misery. You see the pain they're in and you know there is nothing that is going to change that and you give them mercy and make it as quick as you can ... it's not about revenge, or justice, but about the right to defend yourself against an attacker. You don't go looking for it. You don't consider it a mission to rid the world of infecteds. You simply eliminate them once they become immediately dangerous to you."

"Yeah and?"

"And you don't get all freaking philosophical or try to make it something it isn't. You don't rationalize it or justify it. You don't glorify it. You know you are killing a living being and you don't do it lightly."

"And I repeat ... And?"

"DeeDee ... Sweetheart ... listen to me. You do only what you have to. That's all. No more. You aren't out to save the world or anything else. There are people out there that are ... are ... geez how can I put this so I can get you to understand without sounding crazy." He scratched his chin in an agitated kind of way and then leaned over and said to me, "You look at an infected, you see someone with an incurable disease that is likely terminal. You see that an infected may act monstrous but that they aren't monsters. At the same time, because you recognize them as people, you also hold them to be accountable for their actions. If they try and kill you, you feel you have the right to defend yourself. If they leave you alone you'd leave them alone ... but you've got enough commonsense to know that isn't happening and you prepare accordingly for what will inevitably occur. To you their lack of intelligence or self control - even if it is because of a disease - is no excuse."

"Well, sure. That's pretty much it in a nutshell. I still don't see why you are going all wiggy."

"Because Kid there are people out there that think that you and your thinking is just as monstrous as the infecteds are. They think that the Constitutional rights of the infecteds are being abused and that they should be declared a protected class. They are trying to get it put under the Americans with Disabilities Act and are petitioning for money to be set aside to house and care for them."

I just looked at him and then snorted. "I'd heard something like this was happening out West - not everyone is completely cut off and that kind of news gets around - but are you telling me that it's here and not just out West?"

"Yes. But ... but it's ... dammit. Look, how much about politics do you know?"

"Enough to know it made Dad swear ... a lot ... and Mom make serious prune face."

He barked a cynical laugh. "Yeah, I just bet it did. Damn protected classes and all the handcuffing they did of law enforcement that prevented them from doing their job the way it needed doing. I got to know Sheriff Berio pretty well and he was about as conservative as those back where I come from which is to say pretty damn conservative. I'm sure he took a lot of flack from certain quarters."

"Sure, but anyone that does their job usually does ... or at least that is what Dad used to say. But he always got reelected because people may have cursed him in public but in private enough were always happy with the way he did his job."

I was sad as it sunk in that the Sheriff was dead and Sarge patted my shoulder awkwardly. "He was a good man and I was proud to know him. He died the way he lived, trying to protect the people of his town. Too few people like that in this world. Too many of the other kind that are jockeying for power. And that's what we have here. Try and understand something DeeDee, just about everything comes down to power and the desire for power. There are people that are going nuts because they've lost the people that put them in power. The cities were devastated by this virus ... all over has been devastated but especially the urban centers. The politics of the rural folks and the city folks has always been different but in the last couple of decades that difference has made for some very serious problems as the balance of power kept shifting around. People would vote for whoever gave them the most never realizing nothing in life comes for free ... and that's on both sides of the political fence. This pandemic, it has been so devastating that it has left a vacuum. A lot of people are trying to fill that vacuum."

When he drew breath I said, "Ok, but what has that got to do with me? What has it got to do with what is going on right now?"

"Girl, dammit, because what gets created today is what you are going to be left dealing with tomorrow."

It has been a lot to think about. I haven't liked all of the thoughts it has created in my head.

Aggravated I told him, "So I kinda understand what you are saying but that still doesn't explain what is going on right now."

He sighed and leaned back. "Maybe the picture I've tried to paint is too big for you to take in." He scratched his chin again and said, "Let's get back to these so-called rights of the infecteds. You know and I know that the infecteds do not have the mental capacity to do much more than eat to survive and survive to eat. That's it, for the most part that is the sum total of their existence. Eventually their lack of ability to plan and prepare for the future ... heck, to think of anything outside of their hour by hour, immediate needs ... will put a period on their existence. If we can just wait them out, destroy the worst of them that create a safety problem, then the problem will correct itself through natural selection or whatever you want to call it. But there are people that don't want to waste a good disaster. They don't want nature taking its course, or natural consequences to happen. They are taking people's good intentions and they are twisting and using them for their own agenda. Let's think about this, what do you think is going to happen if they do make the infecteds a protected population?"

I shrugged. "Well I'm toast because they'll have me up on murder charges and stuck so far back in the halls of justice that I'll never even be allowed to come up for air."

Surprised he nearly shouted, "Well aren't you all damn calm about it."

I shrugged again. "I've thought about it. But frankly it is what it is. I'm not going to go shouting to the heavens what I've done - that would be like bragging about taking your turn as executioner which is just nasty and sick - but I'm not sitting around crying about what I've done either. And one day it will likely be my turn to leave and go away. Everyone goes away eventually ... everyone leaves someone at some point ... and not always because they want to."

He was quiet. "You're right. I don't want to admit it but you are. But there is going away and then there is being taken away Sweetheart. What some people plan to do is make it illegal for people to even defend themselves against an infected for any reason; they are saying that due to illness and environment the infected are not responsible for their actions. Further, they are talking about rounding up as many infecteds as they can and putting them all in protected zones ... feeding them ... clothing them ... providing all sorts of services so they don't suffer. Eventually the scientists even think that they will be able to come up with a way to rehabilitate infecteds enough that they can contribute to society in some way but that even if they can't we still have a responsibility as humans to look after the infecteds."

"Sounds nice ... except that it is so stupid it's funny. Ever watched that move Sean of the Dead? The ending was kind of like that."

Sarge snorted. "As a matter of fact I have seen it and you aren't far off. Makes you wonder what movies the nerdy little eggheads have watched. And while I can see some people falling for that kind of stupidity the fact of the matter is that there are some people that know it is stupid but they'll go along with it if they think they can work it to their advantage. There's talk - and that's all it is at this point thank God - of designating guardian ad litems or social workers for each infected to make sure they get their fair share of services. These legal guardians will then get to know their charges so well that they'll supposedly be able to know who they'd vote for if they were able to vote."

"You've got to be kidding me." And then I saw it. "You mean that someone would pick who the guardians and protectors would be and it would be like automatically doubling the ... what's that thing called ... the voting block or whatever."

"Now you've got it." He sighed. "Damn, I'm just a simple man and all of this makes my head hurt but now that I know I can't just walk away. What they are doing is wrong on so many levels. But what they are doing right now to try and get their way in the future is my most immediate problem ... and yours too."

I crossed my arms though it wasn't the easiest thing in the world to do with my coat on. "So now we finally get to this horde business?"

He nodded. "Now we finally get to this horde business."


	79. Chapter 79

_**Part Seventy-Nine**_

"You said it was some kind of experiment."

"I did. The infecteds are so dangerous that right now convincing the general public is going to be too hard."

"Too hard for what?"

He looked like he wanted to pinch me. "Too hard for what we've just been talking about."

"Oh ... the political stuff."

"Yeah," he snapped. "The political stuff." Calming down he said, "I keep forgetting how young you are."

"I'm sixteen."

"Whoop-dee-freaking-doo. You're a whole sixteen ... which means you were fourteen when this whole mess started and you haven't exactly had the advantage of any kind of stability." There was no need to debate it because we both knew it was true. "Sweetheart, you are going to have to start thinking bigger. Personal survival is important but a lone person doesn't stand much of a chance in this world. You need friends and you want them friends to have the same basic worldview that you do."

"I know all that already. In the city I was part of a group. Even when I left there and wound up in town I was alone for only part of the time because there were people that considered me part of their group. Then I left and I hooked up with ..." At the interested look on his face I snapped, "Not that kind of hooking up, don't be awful."

"Just wondering. You seemed kinda ... girly ... when you talked about that Jace fella."

I shook my head. "No. I didn't know him well enough and what I did know had some issues. Anyway, getting away from the nasty stuff, even here I'm not really alone. Mr. Svenson and Jamie have both taught me stuff. I've traded with Singing Waters and through them with some of the other camps. Maybe I'm not part of a camp exactly but I'm not exactly alone either."

"Got a boyfriend?"

"Oh honestly, is that all ..."

"Guys think about?" He laughed sadly. "Seems like it doesn't it."

"What about ... uh ... Dr. Riccardo?"

He looked away and I was sorry I asked. "She was one of the people that were sent off because they were raising the wrong kind of doubts. They were working in a little outpost, unaware of what was going on, and they were overrun. They never stood a chance and all had to be sanitized ... the ones that remained intact enough to survive to the infected state."

That was a clinical way of saying some got tore to pieces and some didn't but that they'd all been chewed on. "You didn't have to ...?"

He shook his head. "No. But I had to identify the remains."

"I'm ... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No. I'm glad you did. Hell of a lot easier than figuring out some way to bring it up. But that is just another example of what these people will do to shut up any resistance to their ideas. The docs, when they escaped, made it to safety before the majority of the survivors did. And those who speak first are usually the ones listened to the most. They spun their actions so that it was hard for those that came in behind them to undo it."

"And ... and Lee is part of this? Dr. Hanson and her bunch?"

"No, not really. See Michelle ... she's ..."

"She's knocked up. I got that part."

"Yeah she is but Lee has lost everything and right now Michelle is ... she's saying all the right things, doing all the right things ... but ..."

"But she's still her mother's daughter?"

He shrugged. "I think so. But maybe not. Hard to tell and Lee and I don't exactly run in the same circles. Dr. Hanson has friends in high places but not so high that I wasn't able to force her to come on this little safari this time around. And not so high that she's been able to pull all the strings that she wants to. Lee and Michelle live in general civilian quarters and Michelle, because she doesn't have any kind of specialized training, has to work in the fields and on salvage runs. When she starts to show more that might change but for now she's not allowed any special privileges just because of who her mother is. It is hard to tell how it is affecting her outlook. I do know that there are some places that she is restricted from going that Lee can go and that really irks her ... and her mother ... because it also restricts their privacy and their ability to correspond with one another without oversight. There are some that blame the daughter for the mother's action ... she catches it as much as Lee does over in the civilian sector of the base. Lee is starting to gain a few friends but from what I've seen, Michelle is a fish out of water and is having trouble navigating her new reality."

Putting the Lee/Michelle soap opera aside since it wasn't any of my business I asked, "So what is this big experiment?"

Sarge took the change of subject with good grace and answered, "Like I was saying the infecteds are too dangerous, too uncontrollable. One of the few things that we know will slow them down besides violence is ..."

He was obviously waiting for me to finish the sentence. "Cold. Cold slows them down, kills some of them too."

"Exactly. The first part of the experiment occurred in December when a survey was done in the far north to make sure that cold slowed them down as much this year as it did last winter."

"I take it that it did."

He nodded. "More so because it has been a vicious winter for many areas."

"What's the second part of this experiment ... although I'm beginning to think that someone has been playing Pied Piper."

He nodded sardonically. "Got it in one Kid. Those noise boxes? They've been repurposed."

"So it's just like the city. The docs didn't give a rip about people in the way of their plan ... they just did it."

Sarge shook his head. "Not quite. The eggheads don't run everything. The plan couldn't be stopped - they had too many interested parties on their side - but controls could be put on it. The armed forces, National Guard, militias, you name it ... word went out and they cleared a path by evacuation, some of it forced evacuation. Bridges and tunnels and roads were dynamited when necessary to funnel the infecteds down the chosen route. And it was just fine until a cold front retreated and the Jet Stream got involved." At my puzzled look he said, "Before this storm did you have a warm spell?"

"Sorta if you want to call it that. It caused a little thaw but not much of one. The creek didn't even unfreeze though the center of the lake got a little slushy and made ice fishing a little dangerous."

Sarge nodded. "Well it was warmer south of here. Somehow or other just as we were ready to make the final push into Michigan the infecteds got caught up in and followed the warmer path into northern Wisconsin. Then cold air came in behind and cut off their retreat and a cold front came down and crushed them betwixt and between. It wasn't cold enough to force them into that hibernating thing they do but it wasn't warm enough that they had much to eat either. They were going crazy. There was also a lot more of them than was expected and planned for. After the first couple of runs the sound boxes weren't even needed, the size of the horde seemed to draw all the local infecteds as they passed through. The doctors were trying to decide how to proceed when things got out of hand and the horde started acting independently of any of the controls we'd try to ensure. They did a lot of damage and then the storm system that created the blizzard caused a group of them to break off and run in this direction. Locals that we'd rescued told us about the folks living up here in the national forest land and ... we got here the same time the blizzard did and got bogged down. Radio was hit or miss. Some got the message, some didn't. The ones in this immediate area didn't. I'll be reporting this and making a damn big deal out of it with my superiors. The docs bit off more than they could chew ... again ... and people died because of it."

"But you're saying the docs think this is a success."

"They've been collecting the infecteds and putting them in storage containers to be taken by train to a holding facility."

"Oh ... that's going to end well."

We both made a face. "One disaster at a time Kid, one disaster at a time."


	80. Chapter 80

_**Part Eighty**_

A much calmer Cochran stuck his head in the door and said, "Sorry Major but Base is calling. That storm system has done a U-turn after running into another front and is about to slam into this area again. They said it has also picked up strength as the two fronts have combined or some jibberish like that. According to them that means that this storm is going to be worse than the last one."

Sarge looked at me in concern. "Kid ..."

Oh no ... while I'm sure his kind of protection was the well-meaning kind that didn't mean that I was going to make an exception. I backed up a bit and told him, "I'm fine. I've survived back-to-back storms before I just need to make sure and get everything tied down and fill my water barrel."

Then there was some squawking coming from Cochran's coat and I realized where the radio was being kept. He stepped back outside and then turned around in a hurry. "Situation at base."

"Dammit. Are they at it again?!"

"Yes sir," Cochran said apologetically.

Sarge turned to me and said, "Dammit Kid ..."

"Go. You've got things to do. I've got things to do."

He was torn and I could tell he was fighting ordering me around. "Aw hell. Don't know how you've managed to get under my damn skin. I barely know you."

I smiled and said, "I'm just like that. Kinda like a rash or something."

He didn't really want to let it go but he nodded. "A really bad one you awful brat. The kind of itch you can't reach. Now you listen to me, I fully intend on coming back. You will not run off or disappear or anything else approximating that. You got it?"

"Got it Sarge," I told him, my smile slipping. "Seriously, if you're gonna go then go. I've got to do a few things and entertain guests isn't one of them."

"Aw hell."

They were finally gone as a stripped down 4x4 carried them off. Stupid thing looked more like a canvas covered dune buggy than a real vehicle. But Cochran had said something to the effect that they had stripped everything off to make them more fuel efficient. Crazy. I tell you if I was driving around a bunch of puss brains I'd prefer a tank or something like that, not some tent on wheels. I won't even go into what a bear could do to a flimsy, soft-sided thing like that.

I watched them drive off and the quiet they left behind was eerie. No birds or other animals - not even the scavenging kind that should have been after the remains of the puss brains. That more than anything told me that the storm coming was going to be a dilly. Mr. Svenson had told me that since God took care of the animals that it only made since for us to keep an eye on what they were doing. When animals hunted up their holes it was usually a good idea for humans to do so as well. Thinking on what I needed to do to secure my "hole" I decided the scientists weren't the only ones that could experiment. But first I needed to know that the Singing Waters camp knew another storm was on its way.

I met two of the younger cousins - named Isaiah and Adam - when I was a little more than half way there. I stopped short, not sure how to deal with them. It was obvious they'd been crying - their eyes were red rimmed and their face was blotchy from more than the cold - but it was just as obvious they filled with the importance of their mission. One of them said, "Storms coming."

I nodded. "Thank you for thinking of me. I just heard the same thing from a very irritated Major."

I think it was Isaiah that asked, "The one that had a fit 'cause those others were shooting at Shane and Jamie?"

"That'd most likely be the one. Big guy, a few gray hairs - I guess about like Mr. Owen - and sounds really, really Southern."

"Yeah, that's the one. He sure says funny things when he gets mad."

"Yeah. Well since you know, you know I know, and I know you know, you better get back to camp and I better get back to the cabin. I don't think any of us want to get in trouble for what Mrs. Svenson would call dilly dallying."

They gave me a curious look, then shrugged their shoulders like whatever they were curious about wasn't worth the time to figure out, and turned to leave. I stopped them just for a moment to ask, "Is ... is Mr. Svenson really ok?"

"Oh sure. He ain't happy about how Aunt Ava and Aunt Paulette have laid into him and made him stay in bed but I guess anybody that can growl that loud ain't that bad off."

"Uh ... what about ... you know ... how is everyone ... you know ... Mr. Joe and all."

They looked at each other and then Adam answered, "Mother says we're all shook up but that it's as much about what a good man Uncle Joe turned out to be in the end as it is that he isn't going to be with us here on earth no more. Uncle Owen says to be happy that he's in a better place and that all the things that used to ride him when he was still living can't ride him no more."

I nodded and said, "Guess that's about as good as you can look at it. Can you please tell your Aunt Ava that I asked how they were doing? I don't want them out in this weather but I don't want them to think I'm not thinking about them."

"Oh sure. And Uncle Owen said to tell you that someone will be by as soon as the storm lets up and folks can get out - depending on how much snow gets dumped - to check on you."

We both took off fast after a good puff of icy air suddenly whipped through the pines and set them to squeaking. After that it was nothing but work for a couple of hours. Water needed to be brought in. I piled nearly my entire wood pile inside the cabin. Then I set to building my experiment but didn't finish before dark closed in and the wind started to pick up all over again.


	81. Chapter 81

_**Part Eighty-One**_

I was tired of being cold. I hadn't slept very well during the last storm. Then the horde carp and all the stupid girly emotional carp of seeing Sarge again and running around in the snow and cold and then prepping for the next storm ... scratch being tired of being cold, I was just plain tired, am tired not just was. I decided that the bed curtain idea was really great but that it just wasn't enough when it was so cold the air froze your lungs and the heat never went more than a few inches from the stove. A new strategy was needed.

First I pulled the bear skin rug over near the stove and spread it out evenly. It wasn't a huge rug because it hadn't been a big bear, but it would help keep the cold from coming up through the floor. Then I pulled the mattress and my existing bedding off the bunk and put it on top of the bear skin rug. This was my foundation. Next was the stupid but fun part ... I built a "fort" over the top of my bed. I used what I could spare from keeping the door shut which meant I was pretty well left with a couple of chairs, folding card table, and two igloo coolers.

I set the card table up over the center of my bed. Good thing I was short or I would not have even been able to sit up without getting a crick in my neck. Then I set the chairs up on either end of the bed facing away from where by feet and head would be when I laid down. Then I started draping all of the sheets and blankets I had over the top of the table so that the ends draped over the chair and the side of the table away from the stove. To keep the chairs from falling over I put a cooler in each seat on top of the covers. The back of my "fort" still flapped a little and let out the heat from the stove so I went around the cabin and found things to weight down the covers there. All in all the cabin wound up a royal mess but working had kept me somewhat warm and boy did I need it.

My next project since I was up and moving and nervous was to check out my food supply. The few cans that were left from the supply that Jace had put in the truck were in danger of freezing so I put them inside the coolers and decided to figure out a way to use them up first. I hated to since they were my "long term storage" but I decided better to use them up sooner than to lose the food to a frozen and split can. In fact, the can of chili that I had set out for my supper popped the topped as I was looking at it. One of the weirdest things I've ever seen. It reminded me of the prank that Toddie and some of his friends pulled at this block party our neighborhood had. They shook up all of the 2-liter soda bottles and then set them on the drink table. The way I heard it they just thought someone would open one and get sprayed really good but what actually happened was like a chain reaction. First one 2-liter blew its lid and then they all started doing it; it was like one of those geysers out at Yellowstone. OMG what a mess. Enough adults thought it was funny that Dad didn't kill Toddie but again, OMG what a mess. It wouldn't have been so bad if Mrs. Jarlson's stupid poodles hadn't decided to play in the stuff and then run through all the mulch in the yard because they didn't want to get caught and given a bath. Did I mention, OMG what a mess?

Memories. Sometimes I like when they pop in for a visit and sometimes I don't. It wasn't so bad this time - maybe the hurt is starting to let go of me or maybe I'm learning to deal with it. But they do tend to steal time that I need for other things. And the other thing I needed to do right then was do a food inventory. Seeing how few cans were left gave me the heebies.

I still had some of the convenience thingies - like baking mix - leftover from Jace's supplies. Not much but some is better than none. Where food is concerned that has always been true and will always be true. Sure you may still starve but at least it will take a lot longer for you to get there and you have more time to fight. I used acorn meal and cattail starch to make the baking mix go further but not even that solution would last forever. Eventually everything gets used up just like eventually everyone goes away. It doesn't matter what you want, that's just the way it is.

All of those glass jars of pickled eggs and pickled turkey gizzards - blech, definitely an acquired taste I never acquired - were used up. I miss eggs like crazy but since I couldn't wiggle my nose and get me some I tossed the thought out in the storm where it belonged and was more useful. I was using the jars to store my acorns (for meal), dried cattail starch (for flour), and other roots. Using glass in this cold was a risk, I'd already had two jars shatter when I picked them up after taking my mittens off. Now I left my mittens on when I touched them. Last thing I want to do is have to sew up my own finger again just because of a stupid piece of glass. I nearly had to change my pants after that bit of work.

I had a few other odds and ends but staying alive was beginning to require as much creativity and work as our group had to use right before I escaped the city. There was no place to salvage here in the woods, not unless you got really, really, really lucky. Spring and fresh green things are still a long way off. The animals are just as hungry as I am and the ones I catch may have thick winter coats but they have less and less meat on their bones. Fishing is about the only truly productive food source I have and the more thaws we have the harder fishing is going to get because only stupid people go out on the ice when it starts to thaw. Hypothermia from falling into icy water has killed a lot of people.

So has hypothermia from any kind of cold. I had to switch to writing with pencil because my ink and gel pen tips keep freezing. I suppose I should try and just get some sleep anyway. My "fort" is working better than the bed curtains did so I will likely leave it up until it starts to warm up. It isn't as comfortable sleeping on the floor but on the other hand it is a lot warmer than sleeping so far away from the stove. What Mom would have called "six of one and half a dozen of the other." I just hope I can sleep over all of the awful moaning and groaning of the wind. It is making me lonesome and when I get lonesome the memories try and crowd out reality. Definitely not cool.


	82. Chapter 82

_**Part Eighty-Two**_

I had a dream that I was a bear and that there were too many bears in the cave with me. I was so warm it was uncomfortable and I was sweating. And things were getting smelly.

Well smelly alarmed me. I suddenly realized I was in a dream but that somehow I was still smelling. My nose is very sensitive and that had me waking up real quick with puss brains on my mind. However, as soon as I woke up I realized it wasn't puss brains - or bears for that matter - that I was smelling, it was little ol' me. I needed to bathe. I also realized that I really was sweating.

For a second I freaked thinking the "fort" or the cabin was on fire but as soon as I dug out from under my covers I realized I had made another mistake. Nothing was on fire, in fact the stove had burnt real low. Then my eyes stung and I realized that there was smoke in the cabin. The next thing that ran through my head was worry that the roof was on fire but I shined my wind-up flashlight in all directions and there was no evidence of fire. In fact there was frost crystals on the nails that protruded down into the cabin. There couldn't be frost and fire at the same time.

The smoke was getting bad. As much as I didn't want to I needed to get a shutter open or dying from the smoke was a real possibility. Last winter our group had walked into a building to get out of a storm to find a room full of newly dead, uninfected people. They hadn't been killed by puss brains but had died in their sleep. Doc said they had killed themselves accidentally by suffocating. They'd built a fire but hadn't made sure there was enough ventilation to let the smoke out and fresh oxygen in.

I tried the first set of shutters and they wouldn't budge. That sometimes happens and I didn't worry. By the last set of shutters out of four, with none of them budging I did start to worry. I unbarricaded the door, opened it, and was met by white. Not a storm of white but a block of white. It looked like I was staring at a white styrofoam wall. Oh carp, I wasn't snowed in ... I was snowed under.

I ran and got what I use for a broom - a bunch of twigs tied together on the end of a long stick - and shoved it up as far as I could. The snow was packed very tight, almost like a block of ice in places, so it wasn't very easy. After some real work and deep coughing I finally broke through and I realized the snow was piled up to at least the edge of the roof. A beam of light came down through the hole and that told me that it was daylight and that my guardian angel had done me a favor by waking me up or I might have been done for.

I spent a couple of minutes inhaling the sweet, fresh air even though it was cold as the dickens. My throat, nose, and mouth felt coated with nasty gunk but it was the kind that was thick and caked on and I couldn't just blow my nose or clear my throat to get rid of it. I was really starting to gag on it. Then I gave myself a dope slap and ran over and opened the fireplace damper and felt the foul air being pulled out faster.

The storm had been a brief one but it dumped a lot of snow on top of the previous storm's snow. The wind probably picked it all up and piled it up against whatever got in the way. Since the cabin was right at the base of a trail that went into a ridge I figured that was the reason why I was buried but there was only going to be one way to find out.

I started scooping out snow out with a plastic bowl but it broke so I had to switch to a skillet and had to be careful not to break the handle. It took me over an hour but I finally moved enough snow that I could climb out through the tunnel that I had made. Snow was everywhere in all directions. Not much of it was quite as deep as it was around the cabin but it was still pretty bad. And the angle of the sun told me I hadn't just slept through the night but through much of the next day. The sun was already past being straight up and was heading deep into afternoon. It would soon be dark again and I'd just escaped the dark of the cabin.

I guess I was sitting and pouting - and freezing my rear end off - when I heard a sharp whistle. I went down in my hole real quick and just listened.


	83. Chapter 83

_**Part Eighty-Three**_

I could hear the crunching of boots on hard packed snow.

"Dammit. All this snow has everything turned upside down and I can't find any of the landmarks."

"Well, no one answered your whistle so we gotta be in the wrong spot. I told you I thought it was the other way."

I didn't recognize either voice.

"Are you sure there's a girl living by herself around here? Them fools could have been telling stories to cover up for why they really got in trouble."

The second man cleared his throat and spit. "Don't think so. Girl is supposed to be some long lost friend of the Major Watson's according to gossip. I wouldn't a risked it if there wasn't a chance of giving him back some of the pain he's dished out over the last six weeks. And getting some fine young thang into the bargain makes for good huntin'."

The first one snickered a dirty laugh and I was so glad I'd hidden instead of answering their whistle. I was planning on avoiding trouble if I could but then one of the Wonder Boys said, "Hey, does that look like a chimney?"

Oh great. Why did it have to be the one guy that was smart enough to notice? I slid down my tunnel like it was a chute and then through open cabin door. I would take on a puss brain with a baseball bat but for uninfecteds the only way to survive was to fight like with like. Those guys were carrying hand guns ... I hadn't been able to tell what kind because it was strapped to their belt ... which meant that I might have a little on them with surprise.

I had taken the gun out of my pocket when I went to bed and had stupidly not put it back in there during the panic of trying to get to fresh air. I grabbed it and did all the steps that Jace and Jamie had drilled into my head to get ready to shoot and then crawled back up the snow tunnel in time to hear one of the men say, "I don't see any smoke coming from the chimney."

"Nope. Wonder if she turned into a popsicle like Security Shack 3? She coulda froze to death."

"Don't get your hopes up just yet. We don't even know if this is the place."

"Might be worth finding out. If it is we could ... you know ... mess with her and make it hard on the Major ... take any supplies ... you know ... stuff."

"You are a sick man," the other guy said. But there was approval in the voice that hardened my resolve. Putting puss brains out of their misery was one thing. You did it mercifully and without malice. But shooting someone that ought to know better but still chose to act like scuzz ... well, there was other stuff involved with that. But since I didn't want to be "messed with" and I didn't think those guys would take no for an answer I was prepared to do what I had to.

"Hey lookie here ... someone had done dug themselves a hole out."

"Don't see any tracks leading away. Means they must still be down in there."

"Then turn your voice down idiot. We want this to be a surprise. How we gonna have any fun otherwise?"

"What 'r we going to do with the girl when we're done with her? I don't think I can just shoot her in cold blood no matter what the Major has done."

"Won't need to. Don't let her have her clothes back and just drive her into the woods. Cold will get her before she can tattle on us."

"But if the Major don't find her ..."

"We'll bust up the cabin ... make sure he can tell what happened."

With glee and a wicked laugh the other guy say, "Good idea."

Bad idea. Nasty man #1 stuck his head down in the hole and I only gave him a moment to register surprise before I pulled the trigger. He jerked back but it was the other guy who made all the noise.

"Whaaaat?"

I popped up and fired almost point blank range at the second guy who was just standing there staring at his partner who himself was staring sightlessly into the sky. I was nervous so my shot was low and my bullet got him in the throat. Blood gushed everywhere and even after everything I've seen in my life I was up on all fours heaving my guts up.

The guy died faster than I could finish puking but once I had I realized I had another mess to clean up.


	84. Chapter 84

_**Part Eighty-Four**_

If I was the me I could have been if the infection hadn't come and puss brains hadn't destroyed my entire life, I would look at the me I am now and be totally freaked. Probably disgusted too. I sat by the fire tonight, snug in my snow-covered cabin, and thought this all out. I don't feel guilty about shooting those two guys, about killing them. No, I really don't. I regret that it came to that but I don't feel guilty about doing it.

They weren't puss brains ... in a way they were worse. Puss brains are sick. There's no hope for them. Their brains are so far gone and so damaged that a full recovery is impossible. I honestly haven't seen much evidence that a partial recovery is possible. They show signs of being clever, but not of true intelligence. They would die off if left alone and not supported. I would even leave them alone for them to go naturally so long as they don't threaten me directly. Live and let live ... so long as their living didn't include me dying. That was the rule in the city and it has stayed good enough to live by even now.

Those men on the other hand ... those men had the ability to make a choice and they chose to be animals even though they knew it was wrong. They were going to come after me just to hurt Sarge, just to get some kind of gratification out of you know what. But the you know what wasn't even their main goal, it was more of a power thing. Sherry told me a long time ago that sex was about more about power than anything else. I didn't understand what she meant then 'cause when she said it I didn't really have much more than a small idea of what sex was to begin with; knowing what you do when you do it is a lot different than knowing why you do it. But almost every example I've seen of sex since Z-Day just proves more and more that Sherry was right. Moses and Sherry ... Sherry was with Moses mostly because of Moses' power as leader, it was a way to get protection. Sarge and Dr. Riccardo ... it seems that Dr. Riccardo was using Sarge a lot more than the other way around though I suppose I could be sort a wrong there. Lee and that Michelle ... she used her body as a way to make Lee go in the direction she wanted him to go and I guess as a young guy he just wasn't inoculated against that kind of thing. Doc and Jerry and all the others that wanted to "protect" me by controlling me. Heck, even Jace and Sunny in a way with Sunny being the senior partner by getting what she wanted from Jace by giving him what he thought he had wanted.

I wonder if my parents were just weird or different or something. I mean it is truly gross to think about my parents doing it but since Toddie and I are here I gotta figure they did some of the time. But no matter how I think about it I don't think sex between them - bleach for my brain, ugh - was about power. I don't know if they were just two strange people that found each other and fell in love or if the world has changed so much since Z Day that love is something that you can use as a reason for being with someone anymore. Sometimes I think about this stuff and want to throw those books I found in the stove and burn them up 'til they are nothing but ash. It's like they create impossible goals. Romance and all that stuff ... I'm beginning to think it can't exist these days and I don't know if that is good or not or if it ever existed in the first place, at least not for most normal people.

There's a reason why I was thinking about this love and sex stuff but I'm not there yet.

After I got done tossing my cookies - my nose is really sensitive and one of the guys had messed himself when he was dying - I sat there trying to think what I needed to do next. Killing uninfected people is just different than putting a puss brain down with mercy in mind. I mean I know some people will say there is no difference - that killing is killing - but there is a difference for me. Call it rationalizing or whatever, I've heard it before and probably will again. I will admit that you can't always tell the difference when an infected and uninfected are lying side by side and dead.

First I needed to get rid of the bodies. That part wasn't going to be hard as far as planning went ... just hard work to accomplish. No need to bury them - it was too freezing cold anyway and the ground would have chewed up any kind of digging tool - just put them on a tarp and drag them into the woods and let the scavengers have them. I wasn't too thrilled with the idea of giving wild animals more of a taste for humans as food than they already had but my options were limited. I just needed to get them far enough away from the cabin that if they were found that it couldn't be connected back to me. I also needed to make sure that I didn't inadvertently contaminate any local water sources. That could be bad. Doc taught me that human remains have lots of germs and gross stuff even when they aren't infected. No amount of boiling is going to de-gross-ify a bucket of water if you have to strain teeth or tissue out of it. Makes me want to hurl all over again at the very idea. There is just something totally wiggy about even accidentally being a cannibal.

Secondly, it wasn't just the bodies that needed to be gotten rid of. They'd bled all over in the clean, white snow. It looked like a nasty bull's-eye pointing in my direction. And there'd been a lot of blood. But it was cold so the warm blood melted the snow and it basically kind of went from oozing red stuff, to slushy red stuff, to a frozen block of red stuff that had spread across the top and down into the snow where the bodies were lying. And the other fluids I'm just not going to go into. The human body tends to let go and do disgusting things went it is dying. I can't even imagine what working in a hospital or hospice center must be like. I know I want to be respectful but that takes a strong dedication and a strong stomach. I normally have the strong stomach - my nerves that day an exception due to the scare of nearly suffocating and then the threat of the attack - but the dedication to human decency is just something I don't think I have. I'm no monster but I think something got beat out of me in the city. I'm starting to look for it again but I don't know if it will ever be there like it could have been. Losing contact with your emotions isn't the great thing some people might tell you it is. I don't want to be a sociopath my whole life.

But to survive and do the things I have to do to survive I can't exactly be squeamish and go around crying about stuff all the time. And I didn't have a lot of time left in the day to do what needed doing.

I rolled the men's bodies onto a tarp and then started going through their stuff. I took their packs off and took them down into the cabin and emptied them out into a tub which I temporarily slipped under the bunk bed until I could go through everything. Their packs were nothing special and I knew it would look suspicious if they were found without them so I took those back up and stuffed their undies back in there as no matter how desperate I am, I am not going to try and decide between boxers or briefs. I'd rather go commando than wear some guy's used underwear.

Next came the not fun part of going through their coats and pockets. Wasn't much. They'd been outfitted to the bare minimum and most of it looked cheap, homemade, or salvaged ... or some combination of the three. Both of the men had pocket knives but the tips were broken on all of the blades. I shoved what was worth keeping in my coat pockets and then started pulling them away from the hole. When they were completely out of the splatter zone I got a shovel and started scooping up the frozen bits and blobs of blood. The one guy had really bled out and most of it on the ground so to get all of it I had to dig a couple of feet down in the snow and lever out red ice chunks.

It left the area all churned up but there was nothing I could do about it at the time. Dragging the bodies with the bloody snow dumped on top of the load was no fun but I'm stronger than I look and I managed to pull them about three-quarter of a mile down an old forestry road that went in the opposite direction from the cabin. There was enough debris on top of the snow in that area that the drag marks weren't obvious, and what was slowly got obliterated by the wind that had started to pick up. I figured these guys would have stuck with the roads anyway as they didn't look like the cross-country hiker types. Thinking about it now I'm not even sure what their overall plans were as they couldn't just stick their thumb out and catch a ride anyplace. Or maybe they were planning to cross the border into Canada. But Canada isn't any better off than this country is from what I've heard. It is a mystery that won't ever get solved.

I debated on leaving them right in the road but instead decided to drag them into the trees a few feet. I had just finished dumping and arranging the bodies at the base of a tree when I heard twigs snapping and low growling in the trees around me.


	85. Chapter 85

_**Part Eighty-Five**_

I don't think I've ever climbed a tree that fast in my entire life, not even during the bear incident which shall remain deleted from history. I felt the roll on the end of my pants catch and then give and a body hit the ground with a yelp. I didn't even stop climbing until I was a good fifteen feet off the group and after I looked down I went up two more branches.

There were over two dozen feral dogs and what looked like dogs that were half and half with the wolf part being the bigger half ringing the tree I was in. There were a couple of more really big dogs going at the bodies of the two men, then the other dogs couldn't seem to stand it anymore and joined them.

They were snapping and growling worse than a pack of puss brains but were definitely a whole lot more organized with a definite hierarchy. They had alphas and then they had some pooches that looked like all they had to do is breathe to get snapped at and put in their place. I tried not to watch what they were doing but there was no way to close my ears to it.

Just sitting there up in that tree I had noticed the wind had picked up even more and it was getting colder as the day headed towards evening. I knew if I didn't get out of that tree soon it would be dark before I could reach the cabin and that wasn't good. As soon as the sun disappears from the sky every bit of warmth gets sucked from the air.

I waited an hour for those stupid dogs to give it up and go away but they'd gotten their bellies semi-filled and were ready to bunk down for a bit. "No, no, no you stupid dogs, go away!" I called down to them which only seemed to wind them back up for more food in the form of me. Another fifteen minutes went by and they finally settled back down again. Holy guacamole I was getting mad ... and more than a little concerned. Even if I was able to fly down from the tree and get going it would certainly be dark before I could reach the cabin.

That's when I took a chance and took the gun out of my pocket. I had a full clip minus two plus another full clip. I am beginning to be concerned about how many bullets I have and don't use the gun except in emergencies. Well, getting stuck in a tree overnight was an emergency. To make sure my shots were good since the sun was setting I came down two branches and then had to wait for the dogs to stop running around in excitement again. I can hit something that is moving up close or I can hit something that is still far away, but I can't hit a moving target that is too far away.

Jace told me the gun was a Heckler. I still haven't figured out why they would call a gun a heckler except maybe it is a play on words 'cause a heckler kinda shoots words. I mean I could be wrong but since Jace isn't around to ask and I haven't felt like looking stupid and asking anyone else my guess is as good as anything else. All I do know is that the gun belonged to his dad and it shoots 9 mm bullets. That's all I really need to know beyond the basics of cleaning it and keeping it in good working order. Oh yeah, and which end to point.

I tried shooting the dogs but once I started shooting they started moving all over the place and going crazy. After a few shots it was useless to keep going; all I was doing was shooting trees and dirt. They didn't run off though. And frankly all I wound up doing is feeding them as they went cannibal on their fallen comrades, the few that I had actually been able to hit. Great. I knew at that point they were never going to leave and I needed to prepare for the worst.


	86. Chapter 86

_**Part Eighty-Six**_

Both Jace and Mr. Svenson have taught me that even if you are buck nekked in the middle of the ocean you still have options and you still have a weapon. The weapon is your brain. Your options are to fight or give up.

Well I wasn't buck nekked, I was fully clothed and with a fur-lined coat and hood on top of that ... fur that I had caught, prepped, and sewn myself. I wasn't in the middle of the ocean, I was up a tree ... a good stout tree and not a wimpy pine tree. And one of these days I'm gonna die just like everyone else but I'll be fighting when it happens; giving up has just never been part of who I am, not even when I was a preemie. And after telling myself all that I also realized I had a lot of other stuff too.

First off I had the tarp. I had rolled it up and tucked it into my belt while I was arranging the bodies and had forgotten about it on the climb. I also had all the stuff that had come out of the men's pockets ... pocket knife, string, and a few other odds and ends. I also had some jerky in my pocket in my emergency stash that I keep in the inside pocket of my jacket. I also had a small canteen.

What I didn't have was a good light or water for the canteen. The light I would just have to do without. No way was I going to use my matches to light a fire up in a dried out tree. I may be foolish on occasion but I hope I'm no fool. The water I actually could do something about.

As carefully as I could before the sun went down completely I raked snow into the canteen, packed it as full and as tight as I could, and then stuck it inside my coat next to my body. Doggone it was cold but Mr. Svenson said eating snow for water was a very bad idea. Your body had to use up precious energy to melt the snow and the snow also dropped your core body temperature which was something you didn't want unless you were planning your funeral at the same time.

Then I took the tarp and pulled it around me to try and keep the wind out. I would have liked more insulation but the tree didn't have any leaves to speak of and I wasn't going to risk trying to jump to one of the large spruce or larch trees that were evergreens. The tarp crinkled and crackled driving the dogs crazy; they knew there was something yummy to eat in the tree above them but that they couldn't get to it. When they finally settled back down with only the occasional whine, growl, or howl the forest became quiet as a tomb. Everyone once in a while during that long, cold night I thought it was going to be my tomb. And it almost was. You can fight all the time but that doesn't mean you'll win all the time.

I kept forcing myself to stay awake. I knew if I went to sleep more than likely I would never wake up. But I was beginning to lose the battle. I caught myself more than once almost falling off my perch. It was sometime in the wee morning hours that another storm started up. The wind wasn't as bad as it had been with the other recent storms or I would have been blown out of the tree, but it was bad enough. I stopped being able to feel my feet and hands. I started saying my prayers and they must have been crazy ones too because I missed the ruckus below me. Either that or I was a lot farther gone than I realized.


	87. Chapter 87

_**Part Eighty-Seven**_

The first thing I really remember is the sensation of falling. Startled I tried to look for the tree trunk to grab. I must have surprised him because he grabbed me and the limb he was hanging from. When I realized it wasn't wood under me I tried to fight and found myself pinned against the tree's main trunk.

I couldn't feel most of me but I still tried to fight. I couldn't see anything. Then there was hands ... well, mittens ... on my face brushing the snow out of my eyes. "Hey! I can't get you down if you fight me. You have to help, not knock us out of the tree."

I stopped at the sound of the voice. The words weren't making much sense but I knew who they belonged to. "What are you doing here?"

"No talking. Just do your best to hold on."

So I did. And then we were down but I couldn't stand up. I wasn't even cold anymore, just nothing wanted to work. Then the tarp was wrapped around me again and I thought, "He must think I'm dead. Sitting in this snow I soon will be. I tried to move a couple of times but nothing was doing what I told it to; I couldn't even summon the strength to talk which really would have told anyone that knew me that I was in trouble. Then I was being dragged backwards and then into what I thought was a hole. "Wha ... ?"

All I was doing was trying to push my hood back but he snapped, "Stop that. You're already frozen stiff. You want to let all your body heat out?"

So I stopped. I kind of drifted for a while. I felt myself being turned this way and that, then we were both still. I had gotten used to the cold and had stopped shaking but as I lay in that tunnel my shaking started back up and it was uncontrollable. It was so bad I was getting motion sickness.

"Argh ..." I moaned.

"Shhhh. It's alright. You're just warming back up. The shaking and shivering is your body's way of getting everything moving and trying to get some heat going."

Again I asked, "What are you doing here? The dogs are ... are ... well they're here somewhere."

He said, "No they aren't. I shot the bastards dead. How long did they have you treed?"

"I don't know. What time is it?"

"Don't know and I'm not moving my arm to check. It's sometime after midnight is all I know."

That's when I realized his arms were wrapped around me and I was closer to him than I'd ever been to another living soul except for my parents. I would have fought but I was so tired and so cold and he wasn't doing anything. "Wha ... ?"

"Easy, you're pretty out of it."

"Yeah. Yeah I ... I think I am. My head ..." I moaned a little without meaning to.

"You're dehydrated I bet."

"Water ... inside my coat."

I felt one of his arms move and get a little personal while he searched for the water bottle. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Mind if I have a swig too?"

"Hey ... you're the hero."

As he held the canteen to my lips he grumbled, "Am not."

I swallowed and said "Are too." I must have fallen unconscious after that for a bit. At least he said I was like a dead weight and that he'd started to worry when I didn't move at all.

That's when he started doing what he did. I woke up at some point when I felt warmth around my mouth and cheeks. Then I moved and felt lips touch my skin. My instincts from the city kicked in and I tried to fight and get away. The more I fought the tighter he held me down. Then he must have realized that I was awake.

"DeeDee ... DeeDee ... it's just me. Take it easy."

"Get off me!"

"DeeDee ... it's ok. No one is trying to hurt you."

"Why are you on top of me? Why won't you let me go?! Why are you kissing me?!"

"Kissing you?! If I was trying to kiss you you'd know it. I was trying to warm you up. That's all."

"That's what you call it?"

"Relax already. Yeah, that's all I was doing. I was breathing on your skin trying to keep you warm. You were practically blue. Your eyes didn't even move when I had the flashlight on your face. I couldn't think what else to do. Now hold still, you've knocked the tarp down."

My heart was trying to climb out of my chest. I'd had men try to overpower me before, and they'd come close, but I'd never been in the position when one was actually laying on me ... or practically laying on me. Between that and the closed in feeling of where ever we were I was having a hard time breathing.

Then he stopped and got real still. "Hey, you're scared. I ... I didn't mean to scare you. Just hold tight. Are you claustrophobic? Is that why you dug your way out of the cabin and then left? People think I'm crazy ... guess that makes two of us for needing to get out in the middle of a storm."

"Cochran?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm asking nice. Can you please ... just ... just give me a little space. You're ... you're all on top of me ... I ... I ..."

He was suddenly stiller even than he had been before and said, "Hey ... hey ... sure. You really are scared. Did ... I mean ... some guy ...?"

"No!" I nearly shouted. Then I stopped because I started shivering because he'd moved away like I'd asked.

He said, "Look, you tell me when I get too close but we need to share body heat ... give as little space for the cold to get between us as we can. Can I ... can I move a little closer?"

I thought about it and said, "Yeah. Yeah just don't pin my arms."

"Sure, I can do that. How's this?"

"It's ... it's ok." And it was. My guy-dar usually picked up any hinky-ness from guys and Cochran wasn't even making my needle wiggle. "What are you doing here?"

"You've asked that a couple of times. I've explained it but I guess you weren't really listening or didn't hear me or something. You were pretty out of it."


	88. Chapter 88

_**Part Eighty-Eight**_

"Out of it? Yeah, you could say that," I told him.

I could feel him starting to relax. "You scared me."

I asked, "Why?"

"'Cause you did. You are such a runt but you are always doing such big things. I mean you aren't much more than a couple of mouthfuls for an infected yet ... I don't know ..." He shuddered. "You don't seem afraid of anything."

"Don't be so stupid. I get scared of plenty. Fear is the thing that has kept me alive. I usually just don't let it ... you know ... run my life."

I felt him moving around trying to get comfortable. "Are you OK?" I asked.

"Cold. And you might be a runt but getting you out of that tree was like hauling a hundred squares of shingles in one load."

"Uh ... what's a square of shingles and should I be insulted?"

"Yeah, you probably should but dang girl for a little thing you're heavy." I slapped my mitten covered hand in his general direction and he just chuckled. "Seriously DeeDee what the hell were you doing up that tree? I almost didn't see you."

"What were you doing out in the woods by yourself and ... well, just and all of it?"

He got still and I could tell he wasn't smiling anymore. Quietly he told me, "I guess Major Watson explained things."

"If you mean that he told me that you survived on your own for a couple of weeks when my old town got overrun, yeah he did. But that's not the same thing as explaining. If you don't want to you don't have to. I don't want to get in your business, I was just wondering why you were out by yourself."

He sighed. "Sometimes things just get to me. I can't stand being closed up. I ... this past storm ... I got stuck bunking with ... look, just sometimes I gotta get out. It's like I can't breathe or something."

I patted his arm. "Like I don't like people getting too close." He started to move backwards again and I said, "Not you Stupid. People, people ... you know ... strangers."

That stopped him. "So you don't think I'm a stranger?"

"Well, maybe I don't know you much but what I do know isn't too bad. I've learned to see whether I can trust someone, or put up with them, really fast." I gave him a few examples like Jace, Sunny, Sarge, and then Michelle.

"Hey, about that. I'm ... I guess I'm sorry about Lee."

Confused I asked him, "Why?"

"Didn't he like ... I don't know ... break your heart?"

I snorted. "First off I'm not too sure I have a heart to break ... at least not anymore, or not that kind anyway. After you see so much, live so much ... look, I just don't know if I do. Maybe I used to have a little girl kinda crush on Lee. And that's only maybe. But like I told Sarge, life took us in two different directions. I still like Lee - or at least I think I do unless he has really changed - but it's as a friend ... for memories, that sort of thing. I kinda just feel more sorry for him than anything now that I know what a mess he's in. He did such a dumb guy thing - and I don't like that Michelle at all - and now they are both kinda stuck with a baby of their own making."

"They don't have to be."

"Huh? You mean ... I mean ... an abortion?"

"No!" he said almost angrily. "No, I just mean, my birth mom got knocked up with me when she was real young and my bio dad was supposedly a year younger than her. She was like fourteen ... fifteen when she had me ... and she gave me up for adoption. It wasn't a bad way for me to grow up. My parents never hid that I was adopted or anything, just treated me normal like they did my sisters who were their bio-kids."

"Cool."

He nodded. "Yeah. Not bad. I mean I guess you can tell I don't exactly look like a Cochran but they never treated me any different." I shook my head and even though my hood didn't move I guess he must have felt it. He asked, "Are you laughing at me?"

I wasn't and told him so. "No. I just don't know what a Cochran is supposed to look like. It sounds ... I don't know ... strange when you say it like that."

Explaining he said, "I mean I'm not straight white."

"So?"

"I grew up in a family of curly blonde haired, blue eyed short people. I had a mustache by the time I was twelve, was taller than my dad by the time I was fourteen, and I've never needed the sun to have a suntan."

"So?"

"So my bio dad was a tall white boy but my birth mom was half Indonesian and half Thai."

"So?"

"So ..." He stopped and then said, "So, I guess nothing. I was just explaining why I don't look like a guy named Cochran was supposed to look."

I shook my head again. "You're definitely short a few bricks. How am I supposed to know what a Cochran looks like when you are the only Cochran I've ever met?"

I felt him shrug. "Don't know. I guess I just thought I should explain."

"Uh ... ok. You wanna know why I'm short?"

He surprised me by saying, "I know why you're short. You were one of those preemie babies. Lee told me."

Not sure I liked my business being known without my permission I asked, "Why the heck would Lee tell you something like that?"

"I guess I was kinda making fun of you being small and he went off on me. And ... this is a really stupid conversation isn't it?"

"Pretty much but what else have we got to do?"

He snorted and said, "Don't even go there."

"Go where?"

He groaned and then snickered. "Never mind. I'm obviously not impressing you." Then he got quiet again before saying, "No reason I should."

I knew immediately what he was thinking about. "I think they call it PTSD or PSTD or something like that."

Irritated he asked, "You a doctor now?'

Matter of factly I told him, "No, but hero or no hero I'll kick you if you go off on me like you want to."

He was quiet for a long time then snickered. "You know, no one has done that in a long time."

"Done what?"

"Not felt sorry for me. I think I like it."

It was my turn to snicker. "You have definitely gone strange Cochran."

"Yeah maybe, but I'm learning to live with it. I just wish people would leave me alone about it."

"Then tell them."

"I do," he huffed. "Just everyone seems to want to help. I get so tired of people being helpful you wouldn't believe it."

"Oh yes I would," I told him in complete agreement. "Everyone always thinks they know what is best for you. The worst ones are the ones that mean well. Geez, you'd think they'd get the message after a few times but nope ... it's like they can't help themselves or something."

"Exactly."

It was like being with someone that totally understood where I was coming from. I'd never felt that before. It kinda gave me the heebies.


	89. Chapter 89

Part Eighty-Nine ****

"Hey, now that we've got all the strange stuff out of the way, mind telling me where we are and how we got here?"

Cochran nearly cackled. "You are so ... I don't know ... different."

"And that prevents you from answering my question why?"

He snickered and then said, "It doesn't. I built a snow shelter to keep us from freezing to death. It's not a great one because I had to do it so fast but it'll last us until daylight and then we'll head back to your cabin."

"My cabin? Why my cabin?"

"Because that is where I told the Major that I'd rendezvous with him at."

"How did you tell him that?"

"Now who is being stupid?" he asked. "By radio of course. Just because I got one of my crazies on and took off doesn't mean I'm completely demented. I carry a radio and spare batteries everywhere I go just in case. The Major would have come after he found out you were missing but we had a bunch of guys go AWOL - most of them refugee camp recruits - and he was trying to round them up to keep them from freezing to death."

Trying not to give anything away I said, "Sounds bad."

"Yeah. The docs started something again. They were trying to get the men to ... if you were on the water it would be a mutiny ... to revolt against the Major and make them the bosses but it backfired. The men really can't stand the docs - at least the egghead ones - and all the docs did was make the men think they couldn't trust the major and that they'd be better off trying to return home or go further north, maybe into Canada."

"Mega stupid. Canada has helicopters patrolling their borders and the word is out that they shoot first and ask questions later."

"You know it. I know it. Most people with sense know it. But a lot of those refugee recruits don't exactly have a lot of sense. Those that had any have already been promoted into positions of responsibility back where they came from or in the local militias. The ones that are left are the dregs. You need to be careful. Some of those that went AWOL aren't the best kind of people."

"I'll keep that in mind," I told him.

Things got quiet after that and I almost fell asleep again. "I was coming to check on you."

"Huh?"

"I was coming to check on you. For some reason I just couldn't get it out of my head. And then you weren't at the cabin but I found skid marks ... or drag marks of some kind. I guess you must have been looking for wood or something."

Rather than answer him I shrugged. It bothered me to lie to Cochran and I wasn't sure why ... still not sure I've done the right thing.

"You came a little far to get wood though. That wasn't exactly smart."

Then I don't know why but I told him. "I wasn't hauling wood." When I was done explaining he was very quiet. I tried to move away but his arm went over me.

"Don't. You'll just get cold and so will I."

I asked him, "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yeah. Two jerks were going to rape you and worse. You defended yourself. End of discussion. No one else has to know about it."

"But these guys weren't puss brains."

Cochran said, "No they weren't which is why this goes no further ... not even to the Major. I know he's your friend and he'll risk everything to protect you but him knowing ... it'll put him in an awkward spot and it could be used against him. And no one needs to ... look ... they are already having hissy fits when someone 'murders' an infected. I imagine they'll do more than throw a fit if they find out about anything like this."

Angry at myself I said, "I shouldn't have told you."

"No, you shouldn't have. But ... but I'm glad you did. When daylight comes I'll look and see if the dogs left any ... uh ... evidence and we'll see what we have to work with in case we need to come up with a story."

Confused I said, "Well aren't you all calm, cool, and calculating."

"You want me to have hysterics like a girl or something?"

"I'm a girl and I'm not having hysterics."

"Then why should I? If they are the guys I think they are ... they needed taking out. They used to brag about doing some pretty sick crap. The Major had them up on charges twice but the docs interferred by saying they needed the warm bodies to move the infecteds around. They fell asleep on guard duty this time and the Major said that was the last straw. He was going to call a tribunal or something like that and more than likely they would have been put down by a firing squad anyway."

"A ... a firing squad?! Are you kidding me?!"

"Nope. Major Watson doesn't fool around about stuff like that. He's already had two up on charges of rape and they were hung. That happened last month and you would have figured the men would have learned."

"OMG, that sounds so ... so ... archaic and junk."

"Yeah, but this is that kind of world now and those men don't deserve you to feel sorry for them. Just be glad there are still men like Major Watson that care enough to put it on the line to try and protect people when he can."


	90. Chapter 90

Part Ninety ****

Between the cold and everything else we were both exhausted but neither one of us really slept. I'd doze for a moment and then jump awake but he'd pat my arm and I'd realize where I was and stop freaking. Then he'd doze and jump awake and I could feel his whole body get like he was ready to spring. I'd tell him, "If you're going out so am I." Then I could feel the tension leave his body and he'd say, "Naw. Still too dark. I don't want to break my neck."

This happpened three or four times and I finally groaned. "This is beyond stupid. I'm so tired my brain is shrinking but I don't know if it is a good idea to go to sleep or not with it being so cold. At least I'm up against the tree, you have to be worse because your back is to the snow."

"It's not bad," he mumbled. "My pack is protecting my back." We both listened and the wind was really howling again. "Another storm. We're going to be stuck here longer than I thought."

I heard the worry in his voice. "Are you hungry?" I asked.

"The cans in my pack are probably frozen or I'd get something out for you."

"I've got some jerky in one of my pockets. It's not a lot but ..."

"... it's better than nothing. Yeah. But I don't want to take anything if you are low on food."

"Kinda stupid to starve to death when there is food in my pocket."

He asked, "What about back at your cabin? You told the Major that things weren't all that great."

"It's not that they aren't great. I mean they aren't but things aren't horrible. These back to back storms are going to make things rough for hunting though. I wish I could catch a buffalo; they've got some around here somewhere. I could probably eat it hoofs, horns, and all right now."

He snorted. "You would. I can just see you taking one of those things on. You know I've seen what one can do when it gets PO'd. Last week one destroyed a portable lab that the docs had going ... destroyed a bunch of infecteds too for that matter when they were too slow to get out of the way."

"Ew."

"Tell me about it. I was on containment and clean up detail. We were going to shoot one of those big males to have fresh meat for the camp but the docs went all wiggy and crap and those fools made the herd stampede so that we couldn't go on a hunt."

"I had wondered where they all went to. Well at least we don't have to worry about getting trampled. I still wouldn't mind catching one though. There's enough meat on just one of those things to last me all year." Finally digging out what I'd been searching through my pockets for I handed him a strip of venison jerky and said, "Here. Not as good as my mother used to make but its not bad."

"Your mom did stuff like this?"

"Yep. She gardened and canned too even though we had an itty bitty yard. One of my first memories is walking behind her and holding onto her shirt tail while she picked beans at some farm out in the country." Trying to keep the emotions at bay while still explaining I added, "My dad loved jerky and stuff like that but it was uber expensive. She learned how to make it homemade one summer when we came to Singing Waters and Dad like it so well she stopped buying the store-bought kind. Dad also loved to go hunting and fishing when he could get the time off. But that wasn't exactly cheap either. Mom thought it was like her mission in life or something to save money so that Dad didn't have to work so many hours. He gave up a lot of free time so that Mom didn't have to work outside the house even after I started school. She figured by doing all the stuff she did, Dad would worry less about the money and think more on keeping safe while he was on duty."

"My mom didn't ever really even cook, she was career woman all the way. It didn't seem to bother my dad though. He was always talking about how proud he was of her and stuff."

"But?"

He shrugged. I had begun to think that was the only answer I was going to get when he said, "When I was younger and going through a rough spot I wondered why they'd adopted me if they were never home to see me. They were always on business trips or having to stay late for some project or other. I mean it was cool having parents that could pay the bills and all that but it was really my grandparents who raised me."

"All of my extended family was gone before I started school. Dad and Mom were both the chidren of really older parents. What was it like having grandparents?"

"Cool. We lived with them in a house that's been in the family for a long time. Some great so many times uncle was a carpet bagger that fell in love with the plantation owner's daughter. My sisters tell the story real good with lots of romantic sighs and stuff. Dad was the last male Cochran until they adopted me. Gramps loved it and sometimes I wonder if they didn't adopt me just for him. Then Gramps died all of a sudden when I was 15. Something went haywire with his pacemaker and they didn't catch it in time. My grandmother already ruled the roost ... you know queen of the house sort of thing. Mom doesn't care about that sort of thing so it's never bothered her."

"Wait ... are you telling me your family ...? I mean ..."

"That they're still alive? Yeah, except for my oldest sister's husband, only we don't know for sure we just assume he's dead. He was out of the country on business on Z-Day. My grandparents sold the land around the house a long time ago to these developers and a gated community kind of thing was built around them. When things went crazy, the security guards - who already live inside the community as part of their income - locked down everything and I know it sounds like a movie but its like a MAG compound now."

"MAG compound?"

"Mutual assistance group ... MAG ... where like minded people get together during a disaster."

"A commune."

"No, not really. That one is more like a ... a representative democracry. Every block has a captain. That captain takes the concerns of the people on their block in front of the community board. The community board is made up of equal numbers from the security force, the families that lived there before Z-Day, and the families they've taken in since then. They've got written rules and everyone over the age of sixteen has to sign a contract with the community or they have to leave."

Curious I asked, "Why aren't you still there?"

"I wouldn't sign their stupid contract. Dad didn't understand but Gramps would have. Looking back I can see it wasn't such a bad thing but at the time I just ... I just didn't ... it's kind of hard to explain. Basically everyone sixteen and older had to give so many days a month to the community to go out and salvage through houses and hunt infecteds. It wasn't the salvaging that bothered me. And I could have - and did - shoot infecteds that threatened the community. I just didn't like how much some of those ol' boys enjoyed hunting the infecteds and what they did to them when they caught them. I mean not everyone was like that, most weren't, but the community leaders turned a blind eye to the ones that were and back then I shot my mouth off before my brain could get in gear. I got in trouble and basically I joined up with the national guard before I could get kicked out and cause problems for my family."

"How could you join the National Guard if you were only sixteen?" I asked suspiciously, wondering if he was yanking my chain.

"I was seventeen, almost eighteen, and after all that had happened they weren't exactly worrying about a few months of age. I'd been in the Guard - which is the same thing as being active duty because we were all called up - for almost nine months when you strolled into the picture."

"As I recall I wasn't strolling. I was beating the daylights out of some puss brains that were chewing on you."

I had said the wrong thing. His shivering was barely noticeable at first but it quickly got real bad. Then I was fighting to keep him from climbing out of our shelter.


	91. Chapter 91

Part Ninety-One ****

"Cochran! Slow down! If we go out, we go out together! It's not good to get separated from your group!"

He clipped me good fighting me. It wasn't a punch or anything like that, he was just kind of scrambling around and there wasn't a lot of room. It was pitch black but I still saw stars and he made me mad. I reached into his hood and got a good hold on his ear and yanked as hard as I could. "There! How do you like that?!"

He yelped, "Ow!"

"I'm gonna make you holler some more if you don't stop it! That hurt you big doof!"

I don't know if it was because I still had hold of his ear or if he was calming down but he stopped fighting so much, but he was still pushing me away.

"I told you ..."

"Just stay away from me!" he yelled.

I yelled back, "Well since this place isn't exactly the Taj Mahal there's not a whole lot of room for me to back up and give you your precious space!" He was breathing heavy and I asked him, "Now if we're going to do this you can't run off. Your legs are too long for me to keep up. Help me push the snow away and we'll crawl out sensibly."

"No."

Irritated I asked, "What do you mean no?!"

Quietly he answered, "I mean no. The storm is still going."

"No kidding. But you were just ready to ..."

"I know what I was just doing," he snapped. "I told you ... I'm ... I'm not always safe to be around."

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," I growled. "Trust me, I've been there and it is a good way to get dead fast. For the last time are we going out or not?"

"I already said not," he growled back at me.

"Then get over here and let's get everything put back in place. It's cold doggone it."

We were both shivering, some from cold and some from nerves. I needed to sleep, was desperate to sleep, but now I couldn't because I was afraid that if I did he would try and leave again. He must have sensed my feelings because he said, "It's ... it's over."

"What's over?" I mumbled as I was trying to recreate the warmth we'd generated before by putting my mittens over my cheeks to keep the warmth from my breath near my face.

"My crazy."

"OK."

We were both quiet for a while. Not a good quiet but a real tense one then he said one of the bad curse words. "Hey!"

"I'm an idiot."

Snidely I asked, "And that's news?"

"Apparently not to you." He shook himself and then said, "It looks like we are going to be here for a while."

"Obviously. Besides you've said that already."

"Sure but ..." He was moving around and I finally realize he was trying to get something out of his pack.

Trying not to let my anger get in the way of my commonsense I asked, "Need some help?"

He stopped and sighed. "Yeah. I've got a spare sleeping bag in a stuff bag. If we unzip it we can lay it over us. It's not rated for this kind of cold but it'll be something and I should have thought of it before. I'm so freaking stupid."

"Don't start throwing your issues around Cochran 'cause I've got enough of my own to deal with. Now hold still or my knee might wind up some place you don't want it."

He froze and after some tugging I got his spare sleeping bag out, pulled out what seemed like an enormous amount of material for such a little storage bag and let him unzip it and arrange it over us since he was taller and stuck out more. In no time I could tell the temperature was going up. Cochran asked, "Warmer?"

"Yeah. Getting there.

After a few more quiet minutes while I tried to keep my nose from burying itself in the front of his jacket he asked, "Would you have really left and gone out into the storm with me?"

"Sure," I mumbled sleepily. "Wouldn't have been the best idea for either one of us but we're a group right now. Separating from your group isn't smart or safe."

After I jerked awake for the third time he said, "Go to sleep DeeDee. I think we'll stay warm enough with this over us that sleeping a little isn't going to hurt."

"Hmm."

"Look, this hole is ventilated so we won't suffocate either if more snow covers us. Just ... just get some sleep."

And I did. For awhile anyway. I woke up with chalk mouth ... really, really dry and thirsty ... but I was still so tired that it was hard to move. Then I jumped like I'd been goosed when I felt cold hands crawling under my coat. "Jerk!"

I realized he was in real distress when he couldn't talk because his teeth were chattering so hard. "Cochran, what did you do? Did you go out?!"

"Uh ... (shiver, chatter) ... uh."

"Then why are you so cold?" I pulled his hands and started rubbing them with my mittened hands and he jerked away. "Did I hurt you?"

"L .. lllllet me ... pppput ... mmmmy ..."

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

"Fffffilled bbbbottle."

Then I realized. "You took your mittens off to put more snow in the canteen?! You nut case. Ohhhh ... go ahead but if your hands do anything more than warm up I'll pound your nose flat."

He leaned into me and put his hands under my coat and just laid there shivering. He was being so careful that I put my arms around him to try and hold him while he shivered because it started to sound like he was hurting. "Cochran are you ok?"

"Wwwill be. Hands hhhhurt."

"You said something about a flashlight. I need to check your hands for frostbite." When he didn't respond I said, "Cochran?"

"Not frostbit. Frostnipped. Just hurts but it doesn't feel the same as frostbite."

"And how would you know what frostbite feels like?"

"A bunch of us got frostbit toes when we hit the first storm heading north. Our feet got wet, we still had to march ... yyyyyou get the picture."

"Yeah I do," I told him, but it was an ugly one.

Eventually we both went to sleep with the bottle of snow between us so it would melt.


	92. Chapter 92

Part Ninety-Two ****

I woke to someone rubbing my back. "It's ok. C'mon DeeDee, don't. It's gonna be ok. Really."

I jumped. "Wha ...?"

"Easy."

"What are you doing?" I asked, shocked to find myself practically buried in Cochran's chest.

"You were having a bad dream. It was a bad one too from the sound of it."

I shook my head. "I don't remember." He stopped rubbing my back and stiffened like he didn't believe me. I told him, "I'm serious, I don't remember. I used to remember my dreams all the time but lately ..." I shrugged. "Lately I don't. Maybe because they're old reruns that I've watched too often or something."

He relaxed and snorted. "I've got a few reruns too. You sure you're ok?" I could hear in his voice that he understood so well there wasn't any need to discuss it.

"Yeah," I answered and then wiggled, not sure where I was trying to go.

"Feeling closed in?"

"Kinda. Mostly ... I'm just not used to being ... being touched so much."

"It bother you?"

"Sorta." He backed off. "Look, it isn't ... I mean ..." Then in a rush I told him, "It isn't you. It's the whole guy thing. I ... I guess I'm just ... broken ... like a toy or something."

Quietly he said, "You aren't a toy DeeDee. I didn't mean to make you think I thought of you that way."

"You didn't ... don't ... well you did before but that's was a long time ago and not what I'm sensing now. I just mean ... geez ... I don't want to talk about it."

"Ok. Just so long as you know I wasn't really trying to make a move on you. Just because its been a while doesn't mean that I don't have some self respect. I'm not gonna jump your bones just because."

"I know. Even when I forget I know ... I just may not act like it. Can we change the subject?"

"Sure."

"Like how are your hands?"

He accepted the change in subject pretty well ... better than Lee would have. "Better. I was able to put my gloves back on." After a moment he said, "I hate to do this but I need to check outside. I've lost track of time and I need to check the weather."

It was awful to lose all the heat we had built up but necessary. It was still snowing pretty good but not storming. And it was daylight. "We need to move," he said bringing his head back into the shelter. "Think you can make it to your cabin if I break the path for you?"

"I'll do whatever I need to. How deep is the snow?"

"Maybe another foot of snow on the ground and more building up. It's mostly how it has drifted that is going to be the problem. Some of those things are over my head so for you ..."

"Yeah, I get it."

We both looked a little for any remains of the two men but it was useless. We couldn't even find remains of the dogs though we knew they had to be there so we headed out. I've never had such a hard time traveling to the cabin. It took two hours to get what would have normally taken thirty minutes and by the time we got there Cochran was soaked to his hips. I was wet up to my chest where snow had snuck inside my jacket and melted. And we were both exhausted and losing our core body heat.

"No way is the Major going to be out traveling in this."

I asked, "Want to try and call him anyway?"

"No because it won't do any good. They'll have the equipment secured because of the storm."

He looked around and then looked down and around. "I covered your tunnel opening with a tarp but I'm not sure where it is at now."

"I ..." then I yelled.

"See you found it."

"Yeah Einstein," I muttered as I tried to crawl back up the slippy slide.

"Just move back if you can and I'll slide down."

"You ... you sure you'll ... Hmmm ..."

I didn't want to bring up bad things but I was worried about his claustrophobia. He understood and said, "If I could lay in that casket shaped shelter for as long as we did, your cabin will be ok ... at least for a while ... so long as I know I can get out."

He slid down and after that we both basically sleep walked through the next hour as we took some privacy to change into dry clothes, started a fire in the fireplace instead of the stove because it's stove pipe was clogged with ice, and ate some broth I heated.

"We gotta sleep," Cochran mumbled.

"Yeah," I mumbled back. "Help me move this stuff over here. You'll have to watch your head and feet 'cause they are going to stick out ... and watch your head if you sit up."

The "fort" was rebuilt and we both climbed in without a word and then arranged ourselves and went to sleep.

I didn't think a thing about it - we just did it. That is until I woke up and realized we were wrapped around each other the way we had been in his makeshift shelter despite there being a lot more room. That's when I started weirding out. I tried to move but all the sleeping Cochran seemed to let me do is turn so that I faced the fire. He had a hold of me like I was a teddy bear or something. It was just too embarrassing. Not because of what he was doing but because it didn't bother me that he was doing it.

Eventually Cochran fell asleep so hard I could wiggle away and sit up which is what I've been doing for a while now. I don't need much sleep, I never have, and this situation has been no exception. But I usually don't spend my time thinking about the things I've been thinking about. Like there's this guy that saved my life and I stink so bad that there is no way he can't smell me. Like reliving the feel of being so close and having his hands in places ... like when he was searching for the water bottle the first time.

And Cochran has moved over until he is right up against me again ... and it still doesn't bother me. And the fact that it doesn't bother me is really bothering me and I don't know what to say when he wakes up. Which seems to be right about now.


	93. Chapter 93

Part Ninety-Three ****

In the end his reaction was so funny it kind of cancelled all of the angsty carp I was feeling that was making me queasy. See it was weird having him so close and practically on top of me but I wasn't freaking out so bad that I was going to give up the warmth of the fireplace so I just sat there and wrote in this notebook. Actually it wasn't bad which is weird but anyway ... then he wakes up. I had warned him he needed to watch his feet and head but I guess he forgot.

"What the ... ?!" I yelped in surprise as I started to tumble backwards.

His arm was around my waist and when he had started to roll over he didn't let go and kinda took me with him. Well when I yelled he yelled in more surprise because he'd only been half way awake and then tried to sit up only we were already tangled and he forgot where he was. First he banged his head so hard on the card table that it started to fall over. I grabbed it but it was too late and too over balanced and even if I had been able to stop the table, I couldn't stop the chairs from falling over even though they had the coolers in the seats because the card table falling had jerked all the covers too much.

Poor Cochran was in a panic because he couldn't figure out what was going on and all I could do was laugh because it reminded me of the time that Dad had come home late but forgotten that Toddie was having a bunch of his friends over to watch a marathon of horror movies. Dad walked in and didn't take two steps inside the dark house before he starts tripping over boys. They start yelping and eventually Dad goes down and squashes a couple of them pretty good and they're all howling thinking one of the monsters from the movies is after them. Mom comes running from upstairs and I come running and get blinded as she turns on the light. It was a sea of blankets, pillows, and teenage boys and Dad practically riding the waves. Mom starts laughing and I start laughing because she is laughing. It took us forever to untangle everything and for Mom and Dad to get the boys calmed back down especially after one of them started to have an asthma attack.

Trying to calm Cochran and get untangled was about like that and when we finally managed to get our heads out from under the covers all I could do was keep laughing because the look on his face was exactly like Toddie and his friends.

Finally Cochran wakes up enough and notices the mess that he'd made. Card table and chairs flipped, covers every which way, cans rolling all over the place and then me laughing like a loon.

"Uh ... whoops?" he said like he wouldn't mind finding a hole and crawling in.

All I can do is keep laughing and finally he starts laughing and that must have gone on for another five minutes.

Finally we catch our breath and he asks, "What the heck are we laughing about?"

"Beats me but it feels ... I don't know ... good. I haven't ... not like this ... in a long, long time."

He gives me a strange look but he's still smiling. "So is that a good thing?" he asked.

"I guess. Either that or I've finally lost it. Either way is fine with me. All I know is that I'm not picking up this mess by myself no matter how funny it is."

So we got up and straightened things up. We never said anything about the other stuff. He did say, "I need to go check the weather and try and call in."

"OK. I suppose I can figure some food but don't expect anything fancy."

He turned and looked at me before he crawled out of the hole and nodded although I thought he was going to say something at first. He'd taken his flashlight with him and the fireplace didn't give off much light so I had to crank the wind up lamp so I could look at what I had. It was cattail hash using some of the last of my fresh/frozen roots and a little bit of squirrel sausage I had to dig out of the "freezer" I had cobbled together in the beginnings of my root cellar. It was just a cooler filled with ice I had chipped out of the creek and then hidden under a "trap door" in the floor. I had collected big rocks to build "walls" around the cooler and a couple of really big ones to sit on the lid to keep the animals out of it and so far it was working.

I was three quarters of the way finished cooking when I wondered where Cochran was. I was about to turn around when I heard him coming back down.

"And here I thought you two would be starving popsicles in need of rescuing. Instead it smells like a damn diner in here."

"Sarge!"

I jumped up and ran and gave him a hug and he looked surprised for a moment before laughing and hugging me back. "Watcha cooking Kid?"

"Squirrel sausage hash."

I was thinking about how to make enough to share when he told me, "Stop thinking so hard, you're gonna smoke us out. I've already eaten and so have the men that came with me. Just feed Long Tall Sally here so I can return to base without him fainting of hunger."

Cochran scowled until I handed him his share and then he was too busy eating. I was hungry too but I don't like eating in front of people that aren't doing the same thing. Sarge parked himself in front of the fireplace with us and started shooting questions like we were his soldiers and he expected a report. I guess Cochran was but I wasn't so I let him do the talking.

Sarge turned to me and asked, "What the Sam Hill did you get so far from the cabin for?"

I shrugged and said, "I don't need the lecture. I already got the lesson instead."

"Humph. You gonna need to watch that mouth one of these days."

"I watch it all the time and it serves me well."

I was coming close to the line of his tolerance and I knew it but I just wanted him focused on something besides looking for a reason for me being out in the woods.

He decided to be generous and said, "Well, at least you were prepared for an emergency and had a way to escape those dogs. We had a report this morning that a patrol found some chewed on remains and a couple of the camps in this area have admitted to losing people and animals to the dogs.

I nodded. "Yeah. Singing Water keeps their numbers on this side of the lake down when possible. But that's not the first time the dogs have bothered me. Jamie and Shane can tell you about it."

Cochran asked, "Those are the guys you were trying to save?"

"When? Oh you mean the other day? Yeah. They are about the only ones I can stand to have around. All the other men eventually start acting like jerks. Jamie and Shane are just annoying in the same way Toddie could get."

"Your brother?" he asked.

"Yeah, you know ... bossy, know it all, teaching me things but never letting me forget they had to teach me, that sort of thing."

He leaned back and burped making me wrinkle my nose. "Gross."

"Then you shouldn't cook so good. It makes me eat too fast."

"Yeaaahhhhh. Blame me because you're disgusting."

Cochran just grinned and Sarge looked between the two of us and then he grinned too. But then he sighed. "Sorry you two but Cochran you need to head out with me. We're badly short handed for what the docs want to do. We lost an entire guard shack of men during the first storm and then too many of the idiots that went AWOL. We're still finding them ... or what's left after the animals have gotten to them."

"Will the docs get in trouble for ... uh ... inciting or whatever you call it?" I asked letting him know that I at least had a little understanding of what had happened.

"Yeah ... at least from the military side of things. From the civilian side ... not as much as they should. People are too desperate to find a solution to the massive number of infecteds. They'll put up with some losses if in the long run the solution is effective. Now what about you?"

I didn't have a clue what he meant. "What about me what?"

"I've been authorized to barter with locals for some work hours. The age limit is sixteen - which you say you are."

I already had more work than I could handle but you never say no until you find out what you might be saying no to. "What would I be doing and how many hours are we talking?"

"We are collecting the frozen infecteds and those that are in suspended animation are going to be transported out west to the rehabilitation facilities that are being set up out there and the ... uh ... dead ones are going to be cremated. We don't have long to get a handle on this. Another horde is being driven in this direction and pretty soon we are going to have more bodies than we can safely deal with."

I nearly dropped my bowl, "Another horde?!"

"Easy DeeDee. I don't like it any better than you do but the powers that be have decided. If you think you got it bad you should listen to what is coming out of those small communities out west that are going to be near the rehabilitation centers."


	94. Chapter 94

Part Ninety-Four ****

Not like it? Yeah you could say that. But I've spent too much of my life dealing with the consequences of things that were beyond my control; what was going to happen was just more of the same. Was, not might. Since it was, I might as well accept it.

"Fine. Whatever. But I swear if one tries to chomp on me I will do whatever I have to. I'm gonna die one of these days but I don't want it to be because I became someone's snack cake."

Sarge and Cochran both scowled when I added, "And you can tell those loopy scientists that if they don't like it they can go ice fishing during the Spring thaw. There is no way this ends well. I bet some camps are demanding you evacuate them to someplace the puss brains aren't."

Sarge nodded. "You know these people well. Gwen has already had to deal with three delegations this morning demanding just that. You think your friends from Singing Waters camp will do the same?"

"Them? No. They are tied here by generations. I don't know what they'll do but it won't be a demand for evacuation." In fact it worried me a little that I didn't know for sure what they would do. I told them both, "You just be careful when you deal with them. I like them. They are good people. But they aren't people that you fool with. They can be ... hard. Not mean but ... but hard. Family is everything to them."

Cochran said somehow knowingly, "And you aren't family."

I looked at him and shrugged. "Not really. Right after the horde they made noise about me coming to live with them but they were buried under a bunch of emotion having just lost one of the Misters - one of the brothers I mean. Mr. Joe was kinda a bad boy but he was still family and ... well ... I'm not sure how they are going to take it."

Sarge said, "Understood." He got off the floor and said, "I hate to break up the party but we gotta go." I watched them both go to the door and then saw that Sarge had left his pack.

"Hey Sarge, you forgot something."

He looked back and then made an exaggerated act of looking around. "I don't see anything. You see anything Cochran?"

Cochran for his part picked up on it fast. "Huh? I don't see nothing. DeeDee, you must be snow blind. Go lay down and get some rest before you get really sick or something."

With that they left and I followed them slowly out after pulling my hood up and putting my mittens on. I came up just in time to see them pull away ... but just barely because there was a big stack of wood sitting right by the tunnel's exit.

They didn't look back and I didn't wave. But I did watch until I couldn't see them anymore. I crawled all the way out of the hole and sat on the wood. Things were awful quiet when the last of the sound of the motor disappeared. Too quiet.

I raised my voice and said, "OK ... Jamie, Shane, or whoever. That's enough. Do I look stupid or something?"

Shane came out of the bushes and called, "Or something." He finished walking over and sat beside me. "You ok?"

"Yeah, why shouldn't I be?"

"I don't know ... you look kind of bummed out."

I shrugged. "Been a long, rough couple of days."

Shane scowled. "Did that guy ... bother you?"

"Which one? Cochran? No ... he actually saved my life. I got treed by some feral dogs right as that last storm hit. I was up a tree with only a tarp between me and the wind and had kinda ... Anyway, he got me down and got us in a snow shelter. We just dug ourselves out yesterday and barely got back here before we crashed and burned."

He looked at me and then snorted. "That's more words all strung together than we can usually pull out of you with both hands and a stick and prompting you every third word."

"Maybe I'm just tired of your prompting," I told him with a little snap to my voice. Then, "What's the big idea of hiding out instead of coming out and saying something?"

"Don't know if we can trust that Major or not. Lot of military activity around you all of a sudden."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means if you're going to come live with us ..."

"Who said I was?"

"Wellllll ... the family decided."

I was not in the mood for this. "Shane, I appreciate what your family is offering but no way am I going to be part of asking that kind of sacrifice from them. What was true in the beginning - where I live here and you all just keep an eye on me - is the way it is now and is gonna stay. I like your family alot but I'm not one of you and I'd always feel it."

"But Dad and the Uncles said ..."

"And what they said can be unsaid. I appreciate what they are offering but you've lost men ... you don't need another girl to worry about."

He looked at me and shook his head. "You know, Aunt Ava of all people said you'd be this way."

"What way?"

"This way. Stubborn. She said you'd had too much freedom and that you wouldn't want to give it up to come live under our rules."

I just looked at him. "Your rules or your rule?" I asked quietly.

It took him a few seconds to puzzle out what I'd said. "Is that really the way you feel?"

"I'm not sure." I sighed and then because I didn't want bad blood I tried to explain. "Mrs. Svenson is kinda right and kinda not. It's not rules that I have trouble with. I can follow rules. I've had to or I wouldn't have had a group to belong to in the city. I didn't run away from there because of the rules. Having rules makes sense even if you just make rules for yourself."

"Then what?"

"It's when people ... look ... rules are important but I don't want to get beat up with the rules to force me to change and ... and ... conform I guess ... just to fit someone else's idea of what I'm supposed to be." I turned to look at him. "Shane, how would you like it if I said that you had to come live with me in this cabin and even though I know you've got boatloads of commonsense that you had to live my way and my way only just because I didn't think you'd recently had the ... the structure and boundaries that I think you should have had. That I think you worry way too much about not having a girl of your own, that you aren't allowed to hang out with Jamie because you two argue too much, and that your family's religion isn't my religion so you were going to have to change and do it my way."

He opened his mouth and then closed it as what I'd said started getting passed his instinct to tell me to stuff it. "Is that the way you see us?"

"Not exactly because I know you all are good people and you'd only do those things because you want to ... to protect me and stuff. But ... but all that I've been through Shane ... and I'm not going to go into it all because I'm just not going to ... has made me a person that is different from the kind of people you and your family are. You still have each other. You have family. I don't Shane. It doesn't mean that I'm mad that you do and I don't; it's just the facts. I can understand why those men in your camp got to the point of being ... being growly. They weren't family and they knew it and they felt it. You made sure they felt it to keep them in their place, not because you are bad people because you aren't but because family comes first no matter what. They felt excluded. I felt that when I first got here ... excluded. I've dealt with it because I've had my own place and my own space. It would be a lot harder to deal with if I lived in the camp."

"You make us sound ... I don't know ..."

"No, that's not what I mean. It's right that family comes first ... whether it is your family or whatever. Family comes first. I don't have any problem with that. And I don't have any problem with being excluded. I just don't want a dose of it every time I turn around. Put yourself in my shoes."

"I can't. I don't understand. Do you want to be alone? Maybe for the rest of your life? And maybe a short life at that? Another horde - maybe more - is going to be thrown at us."

"I ... I don't want to be alone forever. But living with you all ... it would make me feel alone ... more alone than I do right now when I really am alone most of the time. Because I would feel that I was different ... left out. You aren't mean people, you wouldn't want me to feel that way, but I would. I like you and your family. A lot. I always have. You guys are like ... like a connection to ... to my parents."

"But?"

"But you can't be my parents. And that is what the Misters and their wives would want to be for me." I bit the inside of my cheek and added, "I think I'm beyond that. I need friends. I have them. I need people I can work with and learn from. I have that too. But I don't need anyone to be parents to me. I had that and then I didn't and I had to learn to live without it. It's been too long. No matter how much your family is trying to be nice, they are trying to force something on me that I'm too far gone from. I ... I just don't think I can ... can conform the way your family would need me to so that I didn't cause problems. And in the end it would mess things up. I don't want things to get messed up Shane."

Quietly he asked, "What ... what if ..."

I knew what he was trying to say and stopped him before we both got embarrassed. "I'm not ready for what if. I might not ever be ready for what if. It doesn't matter how nice the guy is. I'm sixteen. Just like I'm not in a place to take on new parents, I'm not in a place that I can ... can ... deal with what if. I think I might wish I could but I can't. I've still got a lot to figure out and one of those things is how to survive the rest of this winter. Beyond that, I just don't have a lot left to work with."

"What about Jamie?"

"What about Jamie?" I asked a little confused.

"You know he ... he thinks about you alot."

I shook my head. "Well he doesn't have any business thinking about me. He's already in a ... in a 'what if' and he should be dealing with that what if before he starts trying to find any more of it."

"So even though you won't go with me, you won't go with him either?"

I sighed, stood up and gave him a hard stare. "Is this all your friendship has been? A competition? 'Cause if it has you can leave and neither one of you need to come back again."

I grabbed some wood and tossed it down the tunnel and then started climbing down after it. He tried to stop me but I shook him off. I didn't come back up until I was sure he was gone. I was mad. Still am but not as mad as I was. This getting back in touch with your emotions carp is for the birds. You can't just pick and choose what you feel ... like you can't only feel the good things. Oh no, you gotta feel it all, the good and the bad and that really, really, really sucks.


	95. Chapter 95

Part Ninety-Five ****

Haven't seen anyone in three days. Don't care. Would have been nice to have heard from someone but really, I don't care. I've had more than enough to do and it was nice to get things done without interruptions.

Snow has started to melt from around the cabin and it is causing me all sorts of trouble. The heat from the cabin, even if it is next to nothing in amount, has been just enough to create an ice cave so that there is about a foot of space between the packed snow and the walls. The ice that has formed around the "cave" is very brittle and breaks with little to no effort. It has made it hard - even dangerous - to climb out through the tunnel. It is still horribly cold but down here it sounds like it is dripping rain all the time. I decided to stay inside after I fell into a deep air pocket in a drift and was a real popsicle by the time I was able to dig myself out. Staying in is definitely safer. It has also given me time to work on my puss brain bunker.

With my luck things will go just as hairy as they did last time a horde came through. The cabin door still isn't back on its hinges and when the snow goes away that's going to be more of a security problem than it already is. Even if I get it back up the puss brains could just bang it down again. The last thing I wanted to have to do that night was fight against so many of them at one time. I won't do it again unless I absolutely have to. The odds are too high against me. So I've decided I need a safe place I can run to ... a bunker.

Anywhere Inside the cabin is pretty useless - hiding under the bed is stupid too - but the root cellar idea is pretty good, or at least I think so. I've already made a trap door and walls for my "freezer." What I've been doing is expanding that space. I moved the walls out a bit and I'm using the foundation supports to brace the new walls against so they won't topple over and bury me. I need to collect more rock but there is actually a pretty good selection to start with under the cabin. I guess they put it there to keep animals from burrowing into the crawl space. The frozen ground was a challenge to dig until I remembered something that I had read in a history textbook one time about some ancient people building a fire right on the ground to thaw it and make it softer and easy to scoop out.

I have to be careful not to build the fire too high or I'll catch the floor of the cabin on fire. And I have to be careful about the smoke or I hack and cough like I'm about to lose a lung. But it works. And what dirt I dig out I have been turning into mud and using to rechink the cabin walls on the inside. The outside is going to have to wait until there is less run off from the melting ice and snow. I tried and the chinking just gets washed away. The space I've managed to dig is now big enough for me to stand up in with the trap door closed but only if I crick my neck over. The deepest part of the hole comes to just above my waist and then the crawl space is the rest of it. No way could Cochran use it unless he bent himself up like a pretzel. I've still got a lot of work to do but even if I never use it for bunker it will still make a great root cellar.

I wonder what Cochran is doing. Sarge probably keeps him pretty busy so he doesn't have time to dwell on his nightmares or whatever it is he is going through. That's what I do to keep my nightmares in their place ... stay busy.

Speaking of Sarge I guess I never did record what was up with the pack. To put it bluntly Sarge is a stinker and I wish I knew more stinkers just like him. Dad would have liked him I think. They aren't alike exactly but they aren't that different either. Mom and Dad both probably blessed him from where they are at in Heaven if they saw what he did for me. I just hope he doesn't get in trouble for it.

When I came down the tunnel after telling Shane off I tried to move the pack and nearly fell on my face. I think I did pull something because my shoulder was sore all yesterday. And Sarge had set it down like it didn't weigh anything. He must be really strong. As I opened the pack up I almost expected a practical joke or something but instead all I see are cans. Yeah, that's what I said, cans. All shapes, all sizes - except those ginormous ones like they used in the school cafeteria - and some of them don't even have labels but have what is supposed to be in there written with some kind of black marker. There were so many cans I didn't have room for them in my cooler storage so I have them in a foot locker set near the fireplace so they won't freeze and burst.

Those cans take a load off my mind. Ever since I did that inventory of food I've been wondering how I was going to survive until spring greens start sprouting. Soon enough I won't be able to hunt because of baby animals being born and needing to be taken care of. If all the animals get hunted then there won't be any babies to grow up and get hunted next season. There's still fish ... unless the puss brains contaminate things. And that includes drinking water sources and all the other things in the water to eat like the mussels and frogs. Even my cattails could get contaminated which will be a huge problem for me since I depend on them so much for carbs to keep me going.

Even a pack full of cans will only go so far and if that is all I eat it won't go far at all. That's why I'm going to bed early even though I'm going to have a hard time sleeping. I want to get up really early in the morning, before the sun is up and the snow and ice start dripping again, and try and get out to the creek and see what I can find. I am out of cattail roots and my fresh meat is all gone as well. I also used the last of the cattail starch to make "crackers" to eat with the can of tomato soup I picked out for supper tonight.

I know everything comes to an end eventually ... even people ... and I know worrying about it won't change or fix that problem. I just wish it wouldn't happen so often and hurt so much when it did.


	96. Chapter 96

Part Ninety-Six ****

Had a visit today from both Sarge and Mr. Owen, but only after Cochran hiked over for a visit and to ask me why I hadn't come.

"Come where?" I asked him looking at the muddy mess the melting of the deep snow had left around my cabin.

"To the work detail. Is your brain frozen?"

I gave him a look to let him know that while he might have said it kiddingly, I was in no mood to play. "What work detail?"

He looked at me with a scowl and said, "You didn't know ... didn't get the message."

I shrugged. "Obviously not I guess." I debated and then asked him, "Can you tell me while we walk to the creek or are you busy?"

"Creek is fine. It's my day off." Shaking his head he said, "I don't get it, they said they'd pass the info on to everyone and a lot of people from the different camps showed up."

"Who's they?" I asked as we walked along trying to avoid the worst of the mud on the trail.

He took the plastic pail I was carrying from me and then pushed a leafless branch out of my way before answering. "That Singing Waters crew. They said they would pass the word around about the work detail. We got the go ahead from HQ to barter up to three days per week per person for food or hygiene junk."

I stopped suddenly and then started back up just as quickly trying to look nonchalant but he still noticed. In a serious voice he asked, "What's up? I thought you were supposed to go live with them but then I heard you didn't. They didn't act like it was a problem."

I shrugged. "I don't know. Their business. Just drop it."

"Uh uh." When I didn't stop he did and then grabbed my arm. "C'mon DeeDee. Let's get this cleared up before the Major has to get involved."

That made me think. "I don't want him involved. It's nobody's business."

"They kinda made it the Major's business when they told him they'd pass the info to everyone ... you are part of that everyone. If they intentionally are holding back it will cause problems that we don't need."

"What's this 'we' business?"

We started walking again though a little slower. "You know what I mean. Us. Active duty personnel. We have the food that would have gone to the men who have died or AWOL'd and the Major is using it to pay the barter. He could have given double rations to the enlisted crew but he didn't. We aren't hurting ... we get fed ... but no one is getting fat. There was a little grumbling when it was announced that the food was going to the purpose it is."

Concerned I asked, "Is Sarge in trouble?"

"No, but he isn't exactly making friends either. The men have put up with it because it means a lighter workload for us but if something hinky is going on ..."

I stopped him right there by saying, "I don't know if anything hinky is going on."

We had reached the creek and I pulled on the rubber fishing pants that I use so I don't get soaked digging in the creek. That didn't mean I didn't feel the cold when I stepped in the water.

"Geez that doesn't get any warmer no matter how many times I do it."

Cochran asked, "Want me to do it?"

I looked at him in surprise then smiled and shook my head. "No, it's ok. Besides these things would probably only go up to your knees and you would get soaked."

He smiled back and shrugged in agreement. "OK, but toss me the roots and I'll put them in the bucket for you."

It didn't take long to get a rythmn down so we kept talking. He started by saying, "I could see it on your face you know. You may not know for sure there's a problem but you've got reason to think there might be."

Trying to push the subject off I told him, "I'll deal with it."

"Uh uh. I already told you."

I tossed him a couple of roots and said, "Cochran, it's ... it's just stupid stuff."

"Having friends not act like friends isn't just 'stupid stuff' these days. And you looked like your feelings were hurt."

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Just don't. Feelings are bad."

"No they're not." Then he stopped and really looked at me. "Did you ... did you like one of those guys that were hanging around? Did they ... you know ..."

I snapped, "Oh don't you start too."

He blinked then asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that guys are just ... just weird and ... and stupid. I thought you were different ... so don't prove me wrong." But I'd already started to get mad again and before I could stop myself I told him, "You think they're your friends and then you find out that the only reason they've been coming back is because you're like a bone they've been fighting over ... only you didn't know what was going on ... but then suddenly you do and you tell them if they are going to be that way they don't need to come around any more. And they don't." I brushed some hair off my forehead and got even more irritated when I felt a cold glob of mud take the hair's place. "I thought I told you not to bring up any of this touchy feely carp."

A surprised laugh came out of him and he asked, "Carp? Did you just say touchy-feely carp?"

I stomped my foot even though I was standing in the water. I almost kicked the water at him too. "Are you making fun of the way I talk?"

"Uh ... no ... no I ..." He tried to stop snickering. "Can't you just say crap like a normal person? Even my grandmother said it."

"Well I'm not your grandmother am I? My Dad would have a fit if he knew I said some of the things I say, the least I can do is try not to swear and make it worse."

He shook his head but got serious again. "So those guys hurt your feelings."

"I told you ..."

"I know. You don't have feelings. You're super girl or something." I threw an extra muddy cattail root at him. It didn't faze him. "That's not going to work. I've got three older sisters that are a whole lot meaner than you'll ever be. Now fess up. What happened?"

I explained what had happened after he and Sarge had left then came up out of the creek and asked him, "Do you think I was being too much of a girl?"

He was thoughtful and said, "Uh, I'm not sure. Maybe you misunderstood and maybe you didn't. Have you talked to your old dude friend ... Mr. Svenson?"

I shook my head. "No. I haven't seen anyone since that day until you. Besides, Mr. Svenson is sick or something like that and shouldn't be out in this weather."

He let it go and he helped me take all the roots back to the cabin. I'm glad, that bucket was very full and very heavy. In exchange I offered to fix us something to eat but he shook his head. "Actually I brought something this time." He reached into his back and pulled out a drawstring bag. "Let's take it inside in case someone is watching. The back of my neck is itching." I'd had the same feeling so didn't tell him how crazy it sounded.


	97. Chapter 97

Part Ninety-Seven ****

"Uh ..."

I asked him, "Uh what?"

"Be right back."

I thought he was having a moment until I saw him heading for the outhouse real fast. Guys. I just don't get them. I used to have to listen to Toddie and his friends say crude things like how they needed to "water the trees" but here Cochran was not even able to say where he was going. I swear they have to be from another planet or something. More than half the time guys make absolutely no sense ... and when they do I usually want them to go back to making no sense.

He'd handed me the bag so I carried it in and hung it from a nail near the stove and was debating on whether to take the fort apart when Cochran came back.

"What are you looking at?" he asked when I just stood there staring.

"You want to eat at the table or in front of the fire?"

"Like we did before ... in front of the fire." He looked around. "Didn't you open it?"

"Open what?"

He looked at me like he was questioning my sanity and said, "The bag ... you know ... the B-A-G."

"Of course not, it's yours."

"Aren't you curious what's in it?"

"If I wasn't do you think I'd be trying to figure out what to do that will keep me from looking stupid and telling you to open it like right now?"

That made him grin. He took the bag off the hook and handed it to me. "Go ahead. Open it."

I started to then stopped. Remembering some of Toddie's stunts I had to ask, "Nothing is going to jump out is it?"

He laughed. "No."

I undid the tie and then opened the bag. What I saw almost made me drop it. I looked up at him and asked, "Is it real?"

"Of course it's real. Here, I've got a knife that will slice it."

"Where did you get it?" I asked, my mouth watering so much spit almost dribbled out when I talked.

"When we were passing through Wisconsin the Major did a salvage operation on a dairy processing plant that the refugees and Infecteds both missed. It had a cheese factory attached to it and a shed full of smoked meat too. The docs tried to claim it all but the Major put a stop to it ... and he wouldn't let them ship it back to their bigwig friends either. All the troops get a ration at the beginning of the week of both some kind of hard cheese and some kind of sausage. We got some extra this time because ... well because of the same reason there is canned food to use for barter. I just thought you might like to have some."

As much as I wanted a taste of that cheese I tried to do the right thing and say, "I can't take this from you. This is yours ... part of your pay kinda."

He shaved off a thin slice of the bright orange stuff and handed it to me. "That's right, it's mine ... to share with whomever I want to and I want to share it with you. There's crackers too though they are probably broken ... they usually are ... but crumbs are still good."

Cheese, sausage, and crackers. Wow. I haven't had anything like that in a long time. That stuff went away really fast in the city once the electricity went out. It was so good I almost cried but I didn't. I don't want Cochran to think I'm a wuss. Bad enough that I turn into a girl every time he comes around. Not that I mind being a girl 'cause I don't of course. I just mean that I wind up acting stupid for reasons I do not want to think about.

We were finished eating and Cochran had just asked me if I needed help with anything when a big fist banged on the door making us both jump. Before I could even decide what to do Cochran was standing in front of me and had his rifle up.

"If you shoot me I am going to be highly pissed."

Upset I shouted through the door, "Then you shouldn't bang on the door like you're a buffalo or something."

"A-OK Major?" Cochran called out.

"Permission to stand down granted."

I rolled my eyes. "Please tell me you don't talk like that all the time."

After we moved the dresser and let Sarge in he grinned. "It does sound a little out of place but think of it like code. Someone could have a gun to my head and if Cochran had disarmed before I gave him the all-clear we'd all be in a world of hurt."

That's when I looked and realized someone was with him. When I got a look at his face I asked, "Mr. Owen? Is something wrong with Mr. Svenson?"

That softened him and he shook his head. "He's getting better and sends his regards."

I was so relieved I sagged. "Oh. I ... I thought ..." I shook my head and tried to play it off. "Well so long as he is ok. What can I do for you?"

That's when Mr. Owen looks at Sarge and I get suspicious. And after another minute I turn and give the squinty eye to Cochran. "Were you really using the outhouse or were you blathering my business?"

"Blathering?" Cochran snorted completely unrepentant. "What kind of word is blathering?"

I crossed my arms and then he added insult to injury by saying, "Get you bottom lip off the floor DeeDee. The miscommunication needs to be figured out so that someone doesn't get their feelings hurt."

"Now you listen here ..."

"No you listen. If word gets around that you got left out ... got left out on purpose ... people from the other camps might start wondering if they're gonna get left out of the loop on purpose. That is the kind of thing that starts big trouble and big trouble we do not need with another horde expected within the week."

Sarge stepped in and said, "Enough. It seems that it was a legitimate miscommunication. Owen here had delegated the task to three different people to run the information to the other camps. I believe him when he says it wasn't intentional that DeeDee was passed over. Each of the three thought the other had stopped here."

I wasn't done being mad at Cochran. "Did I say my feelings were hurt? Did I?"

"You didn't have to. I could see you were upset when you found out. And it's not like you can't use the food as much as the rest of them."

If he had been shorter and I taller we would have been nose to nose ready for a real argument.

"Didn't I say that was enough?" Sarge's tone let us both know that he'd reached his tolerance level. He turned to me and said, "I'm just making sure that I can tell anyone that asks that we've cleared the air with all parties and that it was just a minor understanding that has been dealt with."

Mr. Owen turns to Sarge and offers to shake his hand and Sarge reaches out with a smile on his face. "Owen, since I've got to head back the same way would you like a ride back?"

"Actually Lock, I'd like a word with DeeDee here."

I had to know, "Who's Lock?"

"I am Squirt."

"Lock Wat ... son." It clicked and I started grinning.

"You watch that mouth. My sainted mother was a librarian before she and Dad married. If you think my name is bad you should hear my sisters'. All of them are named after the sappiest romance writers ... my oldest sister is name Clare Darcy Watson, next one down is Barbara Cartland Watson and it only gets worse from there."

I tried not to laugh, I really did ... but Sarge ... my Sarge ... is named Sherlock Watson. No wonder he told me to always call him Sarge. And I thought I had a name problem. I wonder what his father thought of his children's names.

Sarge just shook his head at my struggle not to laugh out loud, grinned, and then turned to leave. "You coming Cochran?"

"I was going to help DeeDee get some wood or whatever else she needed help with."

He gave Cochran a look somewhere between fatherly and Majorly and told him, "You know head count is at eighteen hundred hours."

Cochran stood straight and said, "Yes sir."

Sarge nodded and said, "Very good." Then he went out to one of those canvas trucks and the driver took him back to his base camp.

Cochran looked at me and said, "I'll go bring that branch back that we moved off the trail to the creek."

I nodded, realizing he was giving Mr. Owen time to say his piece.


	98. Chapter 98

Part Ninety-Eight ****

"Who is that young man?" Mr. Owen said in a way that reminded me of the Sheriff a bit.

"Cochran. He's my friend."

"Friend? Do you think it appropriate to have a young man here while you are alone?"

I had to try real hard to not roll my eyes. "Jamie and Shane are here all the time and no one has said anything."

I opened the door and could have kicked myself when Mr. Owen said, "As to that, I had my reservations about that practice from the beginning. When Uncle Joseph was well enough to supervise it was not a problem but apparently it has become one."

"Not because I wanted one or encouraged it," I snapped. "I can't believe those two would think I was some stupid bone to fight over. For one thing Jamie already has a ... a ... a thing or whatever you want to call it. And for another the only reason ... and I mean the only reason ... that Shane wants a ... a thing ... is because he doesn't have one. It has nothing to do with me at all ... he just wants what he sees the other guys have. He all but admitted it when he didn't come around after I told him to go take a flying leap if that was the kind of friendship he and Jamie were after ... or if he was only around to make sure that Jamie didn't get more than his fair share."

I was getting really wound up and angry again. Stupid I know but apparently Mr. Owen accepted it for what it was ... honest, righteous indignation. "Well, as to that, boys will be boys. You didn't have to encourage it because you didn't discourage it."

I made a face. "I shouldn't have to always assume that guys that act like my friends are after ... you know ... other stuff. I thought I left all those weirdos behind in the city. I mean Jamie and Shane didn't, you know, do the weird stuff but the goal is the same."

"In a word, yes, you need to always wonder. You may not intentionally encourage them but men have needs and sometimes these needs overreach their commonsense and upbringing."

That was so outrageously unfair I nearly screamed with frustration. He sensed it and smiled gently - or gently for him anyway. I imagine he probably thought he was speaking to me the way a father would which only made me itch to kick something even more. Dad would have never said that I was the one that had all the thinking and behaving to do, more than once I heard him tell Toddie that it was his responsibility as a man to behave properly regardless of the signals he thought the girl was giving off. And that if he didn't he was going to kick his butt from there to Tulsa.

"Deandra Dawn, I know that it isn't something you intentionally caused or encouraged. I've been concerned at how surprisingly unworldly you are considering what you've been through. However, because it doesn't seem that you can see the problem - regardless of your innocence - I'm being forced to put my foot down and intervene."

I knew what that meant. "You don't want Jamie or Shane to come around anymore."

He sighed regretfully. "No. I don't. I would have preferred some other course of action but after finding out that they let the situation become such a problem between them that they failed to complete the job I gave them - which was to let everyone know about the work detail - I don't feel I have any other choice. You'll probably see Adam and Isaiah from time to time, at least until Uncle Joseph is well enough to chaperone once again, but until then I think it best if the boys keep their distance."

"Well they can just continue to keep their distance after Mr. Svenson starts coming around too. It was just plain wrong for them to act like my friend when they really weren't. How am I supposed to trust them anyway? None of you Misters ever treated my family like that." He opened his mouth to speak but I kept right on going. "I know you think I'm a kid. I know you think I don't know much. And maybe you're right about it kinda sorta. But what I know, I know. I know I'm not your family. I know it was probably stupid to come up here with all my dreams. I know that you were just protecting your family - and are this time too - when you turned me away at the gate. But I also know you made the decision to help me even though technically you had no reason to. I know you've looked after me, maybe more than I know, despite not being family. I thought Jamie and Shane were like you and Mr. Svenson. I know that was stupid but it is what I thought. I also know I don't want to stop being friends with you and Mr. Svenson and the rest of the Misters just because Jamie and Shane were stupid and ... and weird."

He surprised me by patting my shoulder. "We're all still friends here and like you I want to keep it that way. I suppose that you've forgotten that Jamie and Todd were like two peas in a pod ... there was a reason for that that hasn't changed much despite the times. I expected a little more maturity out of Shane but as you say, he misses what he thinks some of the other men have. Both of them are at that stage of manhood when the way they feel sometimes overshoots their commonsense. And you being a pretty thing that isn't near as fragile as the females they are used to dealing with ... well it has caused them to forget that you deserve the same respect they would expect for their sisters. I aim to make sure they realize the error of their ways."

The way he said it made my face get hot. I also almost felt sorry for James and Shane. Mr. Owen isn't exactly a lightweight when it comes to the authority department and handing out consequences. But what he said next made my face get even hotter. "Now about that young man ... Cochran ... I've heard both good things and ... concerning things ... about him. Nevertheless I have seen he is a hardworker and I'm inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. However, I want you to keep in mind that just like with Jamie and Shane, you need to ... to be ... hmmm ..."

"Don't lead him on?"

Mr. Owen nodded. "Whether you mean to or not. Now I'm dropping this. It's stirring up my acid reflux. Normally I leave my wife to handle the girls. Less gray hair that way."

He was grinning so I grinned back or at least gave him a small one. I didn't have to agree with everything he said not to understand he meant well.

He left after telling me that there was another work detail scheduled for the next day and where the meet up was to be. Not too coincidentally Cochran came back dragging the limb right as Mr. Owen headed off down the forestry road.

After he'd gotten the limb all the way to the door he said, "Know why we felt someone watching us."

"Who was it?"


	99. Chapter 99

Part Ninety-Nine ****

"Not who but what?"

"Huh?"

"Got an axe? I'll chop some of this down."

"That's not your job," I told him. What Mr. Owen had said was stuck in my head and I started to worry about whether Cochran was the same way as Jamie and Shane.

"Hey, I'm not those other guys."

I jerked my head up and it was like he had read my mind. I wanted to run and hide.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He shook his head. "Oh yes you do. But I won't say anything else because you look like you are going to either run away or ask me to leave. I just don't want you to think I came over here for that reason. And I didn't bring the lunch for that reason either. And I'm not going to chop this limb up because of that reason. And I won't expect anything in return." He walked passed me and into the cabin and came back out with the axe that I kept on a nail by the door.

Before he could start chopping I asked, "Then why are you here?"

He looked right at me and then away into the woods like he was seeing something he didn't like. "Because ... because you understand. Not even the Major understands the way you do."

"You mean about the puss brains?"

"Yeah. If I could just think about them like they were monsters it wouldn't be so hard to live with what I had to do."

I went to stand near him but not too close and I leaned against the cabin. "People are so strange. Most of them mean well but they think meaning well is all they need for a good enough reason. They never seem to be able - or maybe want - to see how meaning well isn't enough and doesn't justify the things they say and do. I know Sarge means well, but he is stuck doing a job that if he doesn't do it then someone with less commonsense would make a mess doing. I'm pretty sure that Dr. Riccardo meant well though look where that got her. For all I know even those dimwit docs mean well. But Mom always said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. People need to stop trying to fix the puss brains and just let them die or suffer the same kind of consequences the rest of us would if we went around trying to eat people and tear up the world."

"Is that why you don't have a problem killing them?"

"Who said I didn't have a problem killing? I do. And I know one of these days I'll probably get called on the carpet for it somehow. But that doesn't stop me from doing what I've got to do here on earth 'cause I only do it when the puss brains don't leave me any other choice. I say we leave them alone to live so long as they don't try and hurt anyone else ... the human race shouldn't be a twenty-four hour buffet for puss brains. On the other hand, I don't think we should be scooping them up and sending them to some puss brain dude ranch out west either. Letting them starve sounds cruel but in the end it is crueler to do what the docs want to do."

He nodded but still look troubled so I gave him a glimpse of the part I hated most. Quietly I told him, "It is the kid puss brains that are always the hardest for me." Then I told him what happened with Jace's cousins. "There is just something so wrong with it that ... that ..."

He came over and leaned against the cabin beside me. "I knew alot of them," he said. "And somehow I think they knew me too. I could see it in their eyes ... something was still home in there, of the person they used to be, but it was all warped."

I nodded. "When people turn it hurts; them and us that know them. I've seen it. They get so confused ... angry. They lose focus, their priorities change, and they get hungry. Some realize they are sick but most don't ... or they don't want to know and care. Even those that do, most of them are too busy blaming other people for them being sick to do the right thing. The hunger takes over too fast. First they are just hungry like they aren't getting enough. Then it is like they are somehow entitled to food more than other people or entitled to other people's food. Then they are just hungry and they don't give a rip about anything else ... just give it to them. Beyond that their mind is completely gone and I don't know what they are thinking or if they are even thinking at all."

"You've been that close to that many people who have gotten infected?"

I nodded. "I don't recommend it. It can twist you up really bad in the head. I've seen uninfected people get just as crazy as a puss brain though without the virus to make them that way. There was one group in the city ..." I shuddered. "They got this weird religion going, only it wasn't really a religion they just ... I don't know. It was like they felt guilty about the puss brains or something. They used to catch people - people that they thought weren't being fair or had it too good - and they'd ... they'd ..."

"They'd what?"

"Feed them to the puss brains. Sometimes slowly, a bit at a time, and sometimes all at once."

"Geez," he said in disgust.

"Yeah." I shook myself to get rid of the pictures I had in my head and added, "Then you had people that were on the other end. Some hated the puss brains so much that they'd do anything and everything they could when they got the chance, really sadistic carp." I looked at him out of the corner of my eye but he didn't say anything about my phrasing. "Most of the rest of us were someplace between the two ends. Some felt helpless. Some were angry. Some were ... just all sorts of people feeling all sorts of things."

After a quiet moment Cochran said, "I'm not those other guys. Maybe if things were different I might want to be but I'm active duty. I don't know where I'll be tomorrow. And I've got ... got things I need to work out. I'd rather just leave it at I want to be here because you understand than have to ... to think about it any other way and know that tomorrow I might have to move out and ... life just happen."

Carefully I said, "Wellllll ... I ... I might like it from you when I don't like that stuff from anyone else. But I think I like it more that you've thought about being my friend before you are anything else." Then I clunked my head against the cabin. "That made absolutely no sense. You must think I'm totally stupid."

He wasn't grinning when he said, "No. I don't think you are stupid. And ... and I'm glad that if things were different I might stand a chance. But things aren't different and we both need to remember that. We can be friends but ..."

"But anything else isn't the best idea."

He nodded. I nodded. The quiet was getting uncomfortable then he said, "Be real still and look off to the left of the trail back to the creek."

In awe I asked, "What is it? That's not a deer."

He answered, "Elk. Big one. That's what we felt watching us ... or at least I'm pretty sure it is. He has a harem deeper into the woods but he's been watching this open space for a long time. I think he wants to come out and graze but isn't sure it is safe."

"Aw. If we start chopping wood we'll scare him off."

That snapped Cochran out of his mood. "That's his business. Making sure you have enough wood is more important than admiring his rack and if they weren't so scrawny I'd shoot you one of them so you'd have fresh meat."

"Scrawny? Look at him. I can't believe he can actually get through the woods without getting tangled up."

Cochran started bringing down the ax and the bull elk turned tail and trotted back into the tree line. "Yeah scrawny," he said. "The bull still has some meat on him but the harem's condition says that it has been a really rough season."

"Maybe they came here to find food. They are the first elk I've seen around here. I know they are around in the national forest but I've never seen them in person."

"Maybe the horde pushed them out of their previous habitat."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But ... please don't tell anyone. I don't want people up here trying to hunt them."

"Bambi lover," Cochran said with a snort.

I shook my head. "No. My own skin lover. I walk around in these woods all the time and don't have to worry about loopy hunters that shoot at anything that moves. I don't want to have to start now. I'm sure people are nervy enough thinking a horde is coming."

Cochran said, "A horde is coming. The leading edge should be here within the week according to reports but maybe sooner than that if this warm weather holds."

We both smirked at the idea of what we were in being warm weather but it was true.

The rest of the day was ... nice. No pressure. Friend kind of stuff. Another canvas truck - a patrol - came by and gave Cocran a lift when he was ready to head back. This meant I didn't have to think about him missing dinner or roll call. I spent the hour after he left doing a little more digging on my bunker but I kinda lost interest in it, plus I ripped a nail back which really hurt.

I fixed a little cattail hash, finished rolling and storing the squirrel sausage that I showed Cochran how to make, messed around a little with the rest of the cattail roots to preserve them, then sat and wrote in this notebook with one of my pencil stubs. I told Cochran I wasn't sure I would go to the work detail tomorrow or not. The idea of getting more food is tempting all right but what I will have to do to get it isn't. Hunting up puss brains and stacking them for shipping or disposal is not my idea of a good time. But, unless I change my mind between now and then I guess I might as well. Maybe the elk will come while I'm gone and get a good meal in. Wish all I needed to do was graze to get the food I need to survive.


	100. Chapter 100

Part 100 ****

I need a bath. My body needs a bath and so does my brain. My eyes I would like to take out and soak in bleach for a while. My ears ... I won't even go over what they need.

Oh be careful little eyes what you see  
Oh be careful little ears what you hear  
Oh be careful little mouth what you say

Yeah, my mouth could probably use some soap too. The heck with it, I'm taking a bath even if I freeze to death.

Rats! I got water drops on this notebook. Serves me right thinking that I could actually take an honest to goodness bath. It's freezing outside but I just couldn't stand how bad I smelled. It has been coming on for a while but after today ... GAG! Washing your pits, hot spots, and feet just is not enough. No way, no how. How the old time pioneers could stand it is beyond me. Maybe their noses were broken or something. But I can't imagine the man and wife could stand ... never mind, I am not even going there. I'm pretty sure I don't want to know.

I am so totally glad there was no one around with a camera. I emptied out one of the largest plastic tubs that I use for storing stuff in, set it in front of the fireplace on some plastic sheeting, and filled it with water as hot as I could stand it. I haven't been totally undressed since Dr. Riccardo's uber invasive inspection. Even though I had the door blocked and both the inside and outside shutters locked and bolted I still caught myself looking over my shoulder. I must have looked like a complete spazz.

Geez did I scrub. I'm probably ten pounds lighter just getting all the dead skin and dirt off my body ... you add all the oil and nasty carp that came out of my hair and that's probably closer to twenty. I know I feel lighter. I was freezing my backside off by the time I finished but I do feel better. All I've done is drag the tub over to the corner of the room. I'll empty it tomorrow. No way am I going outside until my hair is completely dry. I might have joked about being willing to freeze to death so I could have a bath but I don't want to die of pneumonia, that's a hard way to go.

It was a good thing I had mostly clean clothes to get dressed in afterwards because I sure didn't want to put on any of that dirty stuff I took off. Peee-you. I'm wrapped up in the fur blanket while my hair dries. I also trimmed my toe nails. I tell you, I was just plain gross; like a little Sasquatch. And don't laugh but I tried to trim the hair on my legs when my scissors but it only made it look worse. Then I tried to tweeze a few hairs out at a time and that was like Chinese water torture. So hairy legs and pits it is. It isn't like there is anyone around to see anyway.

I'm letting the clothes I took off soak in the tub of water. It is going to be a mess tomorrow but hey, it is better than letting them walk around the cabin all on their own. And it isn't that my clothes are really as nasty as some people at the work detail got theirs, but really ... they are disgusting after having to wear them so many times without washing.

I've been around too many puss brains for too long not to have come prepared for some grossness at the work detail. I made a poncho for myself out of a torn tarp and I took my waders too. Made all the difference in the world to be able to wash them off and hang them to dry. I also had a pair of those dishwashing gloves to go over my regular gloves. I got a few hostile looks for being prepared but I wasn't the only one to tie a cloth across my face.

I only saw Cochran a few minutes as he was working with Sarge. He was the one that handed me my detail assignment. He also whispered that he had to be careful not to show favoritism at all. I could understand that but it doesn't mean that I would think he was playing favorites if he waved or anything but I guess other people might. Jamie and Shane kept their distance too and that was perfectly fine. I suppose I'll make myself get over being mad at them but it will be take some work.

I got stuck in the only group with women in it. And when I say stuck I mean stuck. Geez, they were all older than me but they acted like such ... never mind. I'm just cranky because they treated me like I smelled, which I did of course but by the end of the day so did they. I suppose I also freaked them out because I just wanted to get things done and over with so if a puss brain needed to be moved I moved him or her. I always took the head part because they acted like the puss brains were gonna bite them or something but how the heck is a dead puss brain supposed to bite?

See it worked like this ... the scientists were already tagging the puss brains. Black plastic tape meant they were dead and needed to be carted off to the pyre. Red plastic tape meant they weren't dead and needed to be hauled off to the shipping containers so that they could be taken away. The full shipping containers got taken away to a convoy that was carting them to a rail line and once loaded onto a flatbed railcar they were transported out west. The only thing we had to do was put them in one of the two places "for disposal" - pyre or metal shipping container. Not what you would call rocket science.

But it was totally gross ... I mean totally, totally gross. Some of the dead ones were ... ugh ... never mind. Forget it.

Eventually the women just wouldn't have much to do with me and this guy started helping. He had a skid that we'd load up a couple of bodies on, use bungie cords to hold in place, and then pull to the pyre. It was after they got the pyre going (finally) that things got wiggy. The docs being not nearly as smart as they thought they were weren't always right with their black tape/red tape designation. The fire heated the stack of puss brains up and it turns out some of them aren't near as completely dead as the docs thought.

What a lot of squawking and running around. I don't know who made worse noise, the people that had agreed to the work detail when they found out that some of the puss brains were a little on the lively side once they were warmed up or the docs when a few of us decided to do things properly and destroy the brain or heart before placing the bodies of the puss brains on the pyre.

Sarge had to get involved in that one. I started talking - to no one in particular really - and said, "It just isn't right. Uninfected people get embalmed and get taken care of that way. I don't understand why the scientists aren't allowing us to put these poor people to rest like we should. Everyone knows you make sure the brain or heart is destroyed so that they can't feel any pain."

Now about half the people there bought that hook, line, and sinker even though it wasn't really logical which tells me that there are more crazy people in the world than even I have suspected. Another group of them grumbled at having to do one more thing to get their pay for the day. But a small group of them got it and joined in to pressure the scientists to "do the right thing by those poor people."

Sarge gave me an irritated look then shook his head as the scientists used agreeing to cover up for the fact that they had goofed. He later sent Gwen out to tell me to stop meddling because he knew that is exactly what I had been doing. I told her, "Of course I was. My feet are cold and I don't want to have to stand around and wait all day for those weirdos to make up their minds. The sooner we get moving the sooner we all get to go home."

"That's ... that's callous," she said.

I shrugged and tried not to take it personally. "Not callous, realistic. Those scientists cannot or will not admit that they are making mistakes. That pyre is warming the puss brains up. Those that are dead won't feel it .. those that aren't will. Lively puss brains will make work more dangerous than I'm pretty sure anyone wants it to get. And they may be puss brains but they are still people. Better to ... to show them some mercy before they go into the fire than have to watch them die a pain-filled real death in it. These infected bodies don't belong to zombies ... they belong to people. Even a puss brain deserves some compassion and mercy."

I couldn't tell if she understood what I was saying or not. When she walked away the man that I had been working with let me know he'd been listening by nodding and saying, "Where ever my wife and kids are, I hope when they meet their end its as merciful as one that you would give them."

We didn't talk much for the rest of the day but we parted with understanding. I got some strange looks and the women avoided me all together. Oh well, you can't be friends with everyone.

I was smart enough to bring an empty pack with me and I loaded the stuff from the box I was handed into it and handed the box back to the guy that had given it to me and signed my name where he told me to. It had been a long day and I was depressed. I thought I had seen a lot in the city but what I've seen today has added a layer of ugliness to certain memories that I really didn't want or need. And I'm not going back tomorrow. A box of food just isn't worth the extra ration of nightmares.


	101. Chapter 101

Part 101 ****

A voice from behind me on the path had me spinning around. "Sgt. Bryers sends his regards."

"Cochran!"

He smiled at my surprise and welcome. "You hurting for company or something?"

I turned my nose up and said, "Maybe. And who is Sgt. Bryers?"

"The guy you were working with that day you came to the work detail." He started walking with me back towards the cabin. I'd been down the forestry road looking for the remains of the dogs and the men. It has been bothering me that neither got proper burials.

"Oh, ok. I knew I didn't recognize him from any of the lake camps. He seemed all right, just quiet."

"Yeah. He lost his family when a refugee camp got overrun. Their remains were never located so ..."

"So ... he has to wonder where they are."

"Yeah," he admitted quietly.

"Sometimes I wonder about my brother and mother. I try not to but if I try too hard all it will do is cause a nightmare. So I try to balance it out by admitting that they could be out there but that it is also likely that they aren't ... at least not anymore." Not wanting to start that up I asked, "How did you find me anyway?"

"My grandfather loved to hunt and he taught me to track when I was little. He said I was a natural." I could hear the pride in his voice. "You're small and light so your tracks aren't the easiest to follow when you aren't walking in snow or mud but now that I know the directions you travel I can usually pick out a fresh trail."

"Geez, I'm not an animal."

Startled he said, "I don't mean it that way."

I smiled to let him know I was just kidding and he relaxed in relief. I asked him, "How has the work detail thing been going?"

"All the quotas were met and surpassed. Yesterday was the last one until the horde gets here." We were almost to the cabin, walking in companionable silence, when he asked me, "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Why didn't you come back? Was it the work or the people or ... or what?"

I sighed. "Being around that many people was kind of strange but when it started to bother me I just ignored them. My Mom used to love this old musical and one of the lines in it was 'peoples is peoples'. She said it alot and I never knew what she meant but I think I'm beginning to. As for the work ... it was just work." I shrugged. "Yeah, maybe it was the work. But not because it was too hard or anything. I just ... I just don't want those kinds of memories running around and making babies with the memories I already have. I've got enough demented dust bunnies trying to crawl out of my ears and escape."

He gave me a strange look. "The way you put things ... memories making babies and demented dust bunnies."

"Sorry. I'm just kind of ... visual I guess."

"No, it's ok. I guess it is how you cope. It just makes me want to laugh only I'm not sure if I should."

I shrugged again and then banged into him with my shoulder. "It's ok to laugh. Just don't start laughing if you think you won't be able to stop. People kind of give you strange looks for that and threaten medication, straight jackets and stuff."

He smiled and shook his head. "I've already been there. I think I'll stick with you demented dust bunny visualization techniques. It makes me feel better than the crap they tried to spoon into me before."

I tripped and he grabbed me to keep me from falling. He asked, "You ok?"

"Yeah but ... I guess my mouth really is an unlicensed weapon. I didn't mean to bring up that bad stuff for you."

He shook his head. "You didn't. It's always in the back of my head. Not paying any attention to it is just as bad as paying too much attention. Kinda like you wondering about your family. I gotta remind myself not to get hung up in a thought loop." He looked at me and said, "That time during the storm, that's the worst I've been in a long time. Mostly I let some of the guys I had to bunk with get to me and I started cycling but right now I don't feel it." He sighed. "The Major and everyone else keeps waiting for me to go bonkers again but for some reason I don't. I think knowing that there is someone out there that really does understand helps me not to feel so ... so disconnected."

"Me? You mean me?"

"Yeah you. Who else? Even if you do have hang ups about rabbits."

"Not rabbits ... dust bunnies ... evil, procreating dust bunnies."

We reached the clearing where the cabin was on a smile but then stopped in shock.


	102. Chapter 102

Part 102 ****

"Don't ... move," Cochran mouthed quietly while slowly trying to edge in front of me.

I wanted to say no kidding and to tell him to stop moving because he was going to get in the way of my bat, but I didn't dare. A dozen puss brains were sniffing around the cabin. The recognized human habitation and they could probably smell that it was recent but they didn't these apparently didn't have enough problem solving skills left in them to really attack the cabin to get what was in side. Good thing I make a habit of completely closing and locking things down when I'm not there. I've even figured out how to chain the door in place. The only thing I hadn't done was bring in my laundry.

One of them had one of the socks I had hung to dry and was trying to eat it. I knew exactly which one it was too. I had dropped a can on my foot right on the end of my toe and split the nail back to the quick last night. I didn't realize it had been bleeding until I took my boots off to go to sleep. I changed socks and then rinsed the dirty ones this morning and laid them over the porch rail to dry. Since the puss brain only seemed interested in that one sock (they were that fake stretchy nylon stuff) rather than the others it could only be that they smelled the blood.

The puss brains were moving slow but they shouldn't have been moving at all ... it was freaking 29 degrees in direct sunlight according to the thermometer nailed to the side of the front door. Freezing is 32 degrees and that's when puss brains fall into a stupor. What we were seeing we should not have been seeing.

Cochran edged us back into the tree line and we dropped down. Despite the cold I could see sweat forming in the dark peach fuzz that made up his mustache.

I whispered, "This is wrong ... this is ... this ..."

"Adaptation," he muttered while bringing up his rifle.

"Adapt what?"

"Adaptation. The scientists - the ones you call the dimwit docs - were all excited during a briefing the other day. Apparently a small handful of infecteds are not as affected by the cold as originally thought. They called it adaptation, saying it was mankind's most basic and important trait and what sets us apart from most animals. They considered it further proof that the infecteds could eventually be rehabilitated in some way."

I thought about the run in that Jace, Sammy, and I had with the puss brains that wound up killing her ... and Jace in a round about way. Using tools, putting on extra clothes, using strategy ... that must have been adaptation too. And I wasn't sure that it was going to be as good a thing as the docs thought it was. It sure as heck wasn't changing their basic biology and making them less violent.

Cochran whispered in my ear, "I've got to warn Base about this. The leading edge of the next horde is supposed to still be two days away from arriving."

"Maybe these are locals," I whispered bac,.

"Uh uh. See their clothes? See those neon orange splotches? They've been using paint balls to tag the infecteds to see how many free range infecteds get attracted to the ones that are being herded along."

I didn't make a sound but the look on my face must have said what I was thinking because Cochran nodded, "I know. It sounds obscene but that's the way it is so I have to deal with it. Hold my rifle so I can call the Major. Watch the trigger, it's sensitive."

In no time he was connected and there was an unnecessary amount of noise coming out of his handset. Gwen was saying, "We know! We've got them here too. Apparently a private contracting firm thought they could add their horde to the one we were waiting on and kill two birds with one stone. All they did was ! #$ things up by disturbing the horde hiearchy. The Major says if you can't get back here to bunker down and keep your ears open and follow the guideliness unless directly threatened with imminent infection. He's trying to get word to the civilian camps to warn them. We're hoping the drop in temperatures tonight will be sufficient to take them down. We are due another cold front that should drop it into the teens during the day tomorrow or the next day. Stay safe."

He moved back in front of me and took the rifle after securing his radio. "You heard?"

"Oh yeah. Right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing and vice versa."

"Not quite. I mean yeah but this time it isn't the military's fault. The people supporting the docs' plans let the cat out of the bag saying it was working before we are really proof positive that it will. Lots of private contractors have been hired to do the same thing only that's moving stuff too fast. It is too many to process and even if we can gather them up here there are not enough facilities to ship them to yet. It was supposed to take two or three years to execute the plan completely but everyone is trying to jam up and be first to clear their area. They want them gone, they don't think about how to make that happen or that it won't happen without them doing their part in their area and using some patience."

We both stopped as one of the puss brains slowly turned in our direction. He made some kind of guttural noise and then screamed and began to lope in our direction. He was slow compared to what most puss brains could move but he was fast enough. Cochran and I both shot at the same time. Per usual my shot was low and caught the infected in the chest; Cochran's was a head shot and had he been any slower my foul up would have lost him the shot completely.

Instead of running away the rest of the puss brains turned to see what the noise was about and somehow got a whiff of us and started heading our way in a slow but steady pace.

"Aw Carp," I said through gritted teeth.

"That's not the half of it. Let's get this over with and we'll do what we have to."


	103. Chapter 103

Part 103 ****

We did what we were given no choice to do. Using the gun bothers me in a way using the bat hasn't. I'm not saying that killing doesn't bother me because it does. I just mean the gun feels so ... so impersonal. There is a distance to it that makes me feel somehow that I've cheated, that my life wasn't as in danger as I imagined it to be. The bat ... now that is as personal and close up as you can get.

When I mentioned that to Cochran he said, "You're crazy. A gun is a tool the same way that bat is a tool. A screwdriver is a tool the same way a hammer is. The point is to use the proper tool at the proper time. Using that bat when there was a gun would have been foolish. I may have some issues with killing infecteds but even I know that you can take this touchy feely guilty wilty stuff too far."

I snorted. "Touchy feely guilty wilty?"

"Hey, if you can use demented pro-creating dust bunnies to illustrate a point I can say ... what I said. DeeDee, get in the cabin. Now."

I turned to look where he was looking and wished I hadn't. "C'mon ..." I said heading for the cabin.

"I'm going to lead them off."

"Oh no you're not," I said grabbing the back of his coat and pulling. "You are not leaving me with the guilty-wilties. Now c'mon."

We were inside the cabin and barring the door in no time flat and started sliding heavy stuff in front of it for bracing. "C'mon," I repeated.

"Huh?"

I was already sliding my trap door out of the way. "Help me throw a few things down here in case we have to be here a while."

He looked down into my bunker and then at me. I knew exactly what he was thinking and told him, "We won't close the hatch unless they start pushing the furniture out of the way. Now c'mon and help. I hadn't gotten this far in my plans and I'm ..."

I stopped and found that I was shaking. That got Cochran moving. "DeeDee?"

"I forget. Every time. I can't believe it but I do. I get used to things being sorta normal. Then along comes the puss brain train and I've got to warm myself up to surviving all over again. I'm ... I'm scared one of these days I just won't have enough left to care. That I ..."

I found myself getting a hard shake. "No more of that. What did you want to put down in there?"

"Huh?"

Then we both jumped a mile when there was a sudden bang on the side of the cabin.

"That wasn't a fist," Cochran muttered.

"I think this group has adapted to using sticks or something."

"Wonderful. Just what we need. Smart zombies."

Automatically I said, "They aren't zombies. They were never dead and if they get dead they don't wake up." Looking around I tried to start by carrying my food coolers over. "I dug a trench to set these in."

It took a few minutes but the most basic stuff was quickly down in the bunker and then we got down there too. It was pretty roomy for me but Cochran would have gotten a crick in his neck if he hadn't sat down. "You did all this?" he asked.

"Yeah. When I found out that those crazy docs were going to be sending wave after wave of puss brains my direction. I thought about a treehouse but I decided I wouldn't want to be in one during a storm and I don't have enough nails to put together a good one anyway. So a hole in the ground had to work. You gave me the idea you know."

"I did? When?"

"When you saved me. You dug us a shelter."

He shook his head. "I used a cedar tree and some snow to build a shelter ... I didn't do anything like this."

"Well, you still gave me the idea. I know it needs reinforcing in places but at least it is better than nothing. I don't think they'll get in the cabin but I feel safer. Do you?"

"I'm trying not to worry about it DeeDee." There was more banging against the cabin. "I'm wondering if they can dig under the cabin to reach us."

"Nope."

He asked, "You're that sure?"

"Yep. The rock walls of the foundation are cemented in place and have those concrete thingamabobs ... they are like steel sticks ... that go through the floor joists and sink into the ground spaced about ever eight to ten inches. I think they did it when the USFS renovated this place to make it weather tight and straighten the walls and foundation so they wouldn't slip. Dad did something similar when one of our basement walls tried to cave in and take the house foundation with it."

"Some of those infecteds could wiggle through a ten inch space if they do it crawling sideways."

"And that's why you see I built my own extra walls with all these rocks and mud dobbing." At his skeptical look I said, "I know it isn't perfect but I'm working on it ok?"

"What you really need is some kind of wire or steel mesh ... maybe metal fencing. It would need good supports but I've seen where some militia units have done something like this at their checkpoints."

There was a crash and I said, "I guess I don't have a porch railing any more."

"Probably not," Cochran agreed.

Then we heard some scrabbling on the roof. We looked at each and silently agreed that it was time to pull the hatch closed and secure it.


	104. Chapter 104

Part 104 ****

"Wake up."

I didn't want to. I was warm and it was dark and for once I felt safe, so I just didn't want to wake up. When my head was rudely knocked off my pillow however I left my dream world and shot awake like the time I'd found that Toddie had put a grass snake in my bed. I even jumped so bad I cracked my head on something.

"Owth!"

"Huh?!" I said scrabbling for the wind up lamp. I almost started to panic when I couldn't find it. I must have leaned over and fallen asleep on Cochran's shoulder and when I woke up nothing was where I thought I left it.

"Eathy. I thithn't mean thoo sthcare you," he said as he turned the lamp on.

I blinked, momentarily blinded, then saw blood on his chin. "What happened?!"

"Relaxth. You jutht made me bithe my thongue."

"Oh geez," I moaned. How stupid could I get. "I'm so sorry," I added trying to wipe it away. Then I remembered the puss brains and thought of the blood.

It must have showed on my face because he said, "Relax already. See, getting back to normal. If the worst I have to deal with is a sore tongue then it is all good."

"I don't know whether to feel better or like a bigger idiot. I usually don't sleep so hard. What did you need? Are ... are they getting in?"

"No but I heard something. The first time I thought I was imagining it. Next time it sounded like something fell off the roof. The infecteds have made some pretty weird noises after each time the noise came but I don't hear them anymore, just the noise. Listen, it comes about every couple of minutes."

Less than a minute later I heard the weirdest sound I have ever heard. It was made up of both highs and lows pitched horn sounds and then there was a really bass part in it that I could almost feel in my teeth. It was a sound that made me itch.

"What is that?" I asked scratching the back of my neck.

"I think it is a third generation sound box. They were working on it, something that really got the attention of the infecteds and called to them."

"Fine but I gotta say their taste in music is horrible. Geez, I'm glad I don't have my braces anymore or who knows what I would hear. The feedback in my fillings is bad enough."

He nodded then said, "If we hear it this well down here in the ground can you imagine what it must sound like outside? Or closer to the box?"

"Eh? I can't hear you Sonny. I'm going a little deaf I'm afraid."

"Smart aleck."

We both agreed to open the hatch and see what the damage was and I was surprised and happy to find that nothing had gotten in but I did have a problem.

"Oh jollies. Now how am I supposed to fix that? I haven't even gotten the door fixed yet."

Cochran and I looked at the spots of light on the floor that shouldn't have been there. The spots were a result of small beams of sunlight coming through where a few wooden roof tiles had obviously been ripped off. They hadn't gotten through the plywood but it was bad enough.

Fifteen minutes later, right as we were going to try and go out to see what had become of the puss brains Cochran's radio crackled and it was some guy in a patrol vehicle parked outside. We opened the door and exited. They smiled and clapped Cochran on the back like they were glad to see him.

Bottom line he had to go. I could see he was torn and he pulled me away to tell me so. "This cabin is getting less and less secure. Are you really sure about not moving in with that Singing Water bunch?"

"I'm positive. I'll get it figured out. I've just been trying to build up my supplies before the horde got here but ..."

"Yeah." Then he turned so the guys in the truck couldn't see his mouth and whispered. "Don't say anything about having to put those down."

"Why?"

"Because both of us could get into some real trouble. Those docs have friends that not even the Major can fight all the time. They call it murder and assume you're guilty until you can prove your innocence and that takes a while. By the time your trial date comes up you might miss it because you've been shipped off shore to an old oil rig for forced labor or something ... to repay your debt for murder. You pay is for reparations of the victim's family in the future when they're found."

I shook my head and just knew my Dad would have a few things to say about that. Sure he was a cop but the thing he hadn't more than crooks was dirty cops and dirty lawyers and judges. And he wasn't afraid of who knew it. I looked back to where the bodies had been but only saw ... uh ... scraps. I shook my head. "That's not normal. They'll bite and fight other puss brains but they don't usually eat their own, not even if they are fresh dead."

"You're right. I'll report it. Now ... just ... just stay in your cabin until someone can get back to give you the all clear."

"I can't and you know it. I've got to get more wood in from the wood pile and I need to refill the water barrel."

"DeeDee ..."

I put my hand on his arm and told him, "I've lived with this stuff for a long time. I'll be fine."

He was going to say something else but the driver of the truck called, "Gotta roll man! Sgt. Cromer called to give us the coordinates of another pick up and it'll be dark soon."

He left. He didn't want to. I didn't want him to. But he left. That's the thing ... everyone leaves eventually, but not always because they want to.


	105. Chapter 105

Part 105 ****

Been a while since I've written but there is nothing else to do on this stupid train but write. I almost threw this old thing away but I worked too hard for it, risked my life and suffered a beating to have it, have depended on it too much ... one of these days I will probably toss it or use it for a fire starter but that time hasn't come yet. And I've got to write all this junk down down just to get it from running in circles in my head.

Why? Why do things have to happen the way they do? Why is it always on my happiest days that life does this? Z-Day on the day I was went to town with Mom and had Dad's permission to pick out my first real grown up party dress and to go to my first dance with one of my best friends ever. Finally finding the guts to get something for myself - this notebook - only to start the horrible running, running, running that culminated in me being left by the group. Reaching town and "home" only to find out "home" didn't exist for me anymore. Finally getting close to Singing Waters only to have Sunny die and Jace commit suicide. And then that day.

Sure, of course the puss brains are part of it but I've gotten to the point where they are like my ratty old, hand-me-down-through-a-gazillion-people bedroom furniture used to be ... they're there, no matter how much I wish something was different it isn't, so I've learned to live with it and make the best of it I can. The puss brains are what threw Cochran and I together that day, just like they brought us together in the first place. And whereever he is now, I hope he knows that the only regret I have is we couldn't be friends longer.

It isn't like I didn't know things would come to an end. Everything in life comes to an end, some sooner and some later. What I did was make the mistake in thinking that I had more of the later this time rather than the sooner. From here on out I'm not gonna count on anything staying solid for long. If they do I guess that will be good but counting on them being there and then them not being there ... no, uh uh, don't want that pain any longer. I shoulda just kept these stupid emotions completely buried instead of trying to pull them back out and deal with them. They are going back in storage and if I'm lucky that is where they will stay.

I went back over the last couple of pages I had written and the last sentence was pretty prophetic. I didn't mean it to be and maybe I should have just kept things shut up but I didn't and I didn't even bother knocking on wood to keep them from coming true. Stupid is as stupid does.

After Lee left I knew I needed to get a move on. It might have been kinda early in the day - we had been stuck in the bunker all night - but the weather felt strange and I figured another storm was on the way. Water was the first need and I took care of it in three trips, filling every container I had from the bucket fulls I hauled. I might have been able to do it in two trips but I preferred to have one hand free just in case. I had both the gun and my bat.

After the water I did a quick circuit of my trap line. Each one was empty; even the basket I had beneath a small waterfall that emptied into the lake to catch fish. But this was no ordinary bad hunting day. The traps were all torn to pieces and so was what had been in them. I felt bad for about two seconds about the animals but I knew they would have been dead before the puss brains got to them. That bothered me and made me extremely cautious. It also made me mad but I didn't have time to let it out, I needed to get back and bring in some wood.

I tell you, my wood pile was a total mess. It was spread from the cabin to the tree line and out to the road and down a ways. I grabbed what I could but had to leave a lot that had been fouled by the puss brains. In fact the entire clearing the cabin sat in was foul. I'd noticed it when I went to get water but had been trying to ignore it. To make this much mess I knew there had to have been a lot of puss brains and that sucked away what little joy I had left.

Then I heard that carpalicious noise again only it seemed to be coming from all over. It wasn't exactly the same noise though, but it was close enough that I knew what it had to be. I looked in every direction trying to find where it was coming from and then I got smart and looked up. Some kind of little plane or helicopter was flying above the trees coming out of the east, actually more than one. I knew for a fact that Sarge and his people were southwest of the lake. I didn't like it, I didn't like it one bit.


	106. Chapter 106

Part 106 ****

It bothered me so much that I called it an early day, went in the cabin and locked down. It was dark and dreary inside the cabin after being outside but that suited me better than the false jolliness of the sun as it shown in the sky. I realized something as I walked around in the cabin putting things away ... I was too warm with my coat on. It didn't matter that it was getting late in the day or that I had small holes in my roof.

Now I wasn't hot but it was definitely too warm for all the layers I had on. I took my coat off slowly as I realized what this could mean. Mr. Svenson had told me the Spring Thaw didn't normally occur until mid to late March, sometimes not until April, but it had come early a few times in the years he'd been on earth. It wasn't quite March yet, and it didn't have to mean that the thaw was coming early, but we could be having an early warm spell - warm meaning above freezing temperatures -and that was going to throw a real monkey wrench into the docs' plans. Idiots. If they were going to experiment they should have started way earlier than waiting until late January to give it a good go. Just because weather is normally something doesn't mean it is the same from year to year.

I was just about to take some things out of the bunker and make me a meal ... the cattail sprouts I ate as I carried water were nothing but a distant memory to my stomach ... when something crashed into the cabin door. I could hear it bounce off and tumble down the stairs but just as quickly pick itself back up and make another run at it. Then there were crashes and bangs all over the cabin.

A cold emptiness settled over me. An acceptance I guess you'd say. This may have been the wild woods of Wisconsin, but in my head it was also the urban jungle of the city. The two overlapped. Slowly and carefully I grabbed everything that could fit into my bunker space and threw it down. Then as the noise continued to increased in volume I climbed down and carefully pulled the trap door closed and bolted it.

I was alone. Truly alone.


	107. Chapter 107

Part 107 ****

Down in that dank hole I'd dug to protect myself I didn't dare try and eat. For one the smell that was finally making it through the wooden walls of the cabin and through the plank floors was too nauseating. For another, I didn't want any food odors to encourage the puss brains to work any harder than they were already doing.

The bunker wasn't the same without company. Instead of it feeling safe and inviting it felt like my grave. I'm not going to record all my thoughts as I lay there. I can't even record how long it was because I just don't know. I'm pretty sure it was at least a week. I was lucky to have dug out a place for the water barrel and actually gotten it down in there or I would have been in serious trouble. I had to use a bucket for my bathroom though the smell of it was unnoticeable compared to what was directly above me.

Sometime during my first sleep cycle there was a huge crash. It was the little frig and chest o' drawers going over. The puss brains had made it into the cabin. They ransacked the place. Each sound belonged to the destruction of things I had tried so hard to mend into usefulness or had found and spent a lot of effort lugging back. The dishes, even the plastic ones, were some of the first things destroyed. The bunk bed came down with a crash and I heard the rip as the mattresses were shredded. I was thankful I hadn't started a fire because I heard the stove pipe being ripped down and something crack as my pans and skillet was used to beat on it. Shutters were torn down and I heard the crash as things were thrown through the plexiglass windows. I heard tearing noises as they destroyed the books that I hadn't thought to bring down into the bunker. All I could do was lay there, wrapped in the bear skin, and try not to think about it too hard.

They would come and go, but when they were gone they weren't gone long. Wave after wave after wave of destruction. I was finally forced to try and get some sustenance into my body to keep the dry heaves from hunger away. When they were gone I tried to eat but it wasn't easy. I finally just wound up chewing on what little bit of jerky I had left. Even that was a struggle to keep down. It was actually just easier to sleep and not worry about anything else.

One day or night it rained. I heard the thunder crashing and I heard the rain land on the floor at it blew in the broken windows and doors. Everything grew really damp and uncomfortable, especially when the temperature dropped briefly and the rain turned to sleet.

At some point I realized I would occasionally hear one of those noise boxes go off. Sometimes it seemed like it must be right outside the cabin and sometimes it was far off. Then after some unknown amount of time I realized it had been a lot of hours since I had heard either the noise box or a puss brain. I was very low on water and didn't have a choice. If I wanted to live I was going to have to risk getting out.


	108. Chapter 108

Part 108 ****

Something had fallen across the trap door and I almost couldn't lift it off to get out. For a moment I even considered tunneling out from under the cabin itself. However, after a few good heaves I slid what turned out to be the remains of the bunk off of just enough of the trap door that I could wiggle out.

I had once again become accustomed to the smell of puss brain waste but when I was out of my bunker and took a really good look at the destruction and their waste that they had smeared all over everything I lost it and nearly puked on my boots.

I had to get out. Even with the shutters and windows ripped out and a cold breeze blowing through it was too much. There were more wood shingles missing as well, a sheet of plywood too, and terrified thoughts of where would I live tried to race around in my head. It almost didn't matter if I stepped outside to face a horde with just my baseball bat. But when I stumbled through the gap where the door used to be - it wasn't just barely hanging it was completely missing - it was to a lot of destruction, but no infecteds wandering around.

Sign of them were everywhere though. They'd been like this in the city ... so hungry and angry about it that they tore into everything. From the look of things they'd even started eating the shrubs and trees. I suppose you get this many together in one place and they'll strip the area like locusts. I was looking at the girdled and broken trees and knew things would only be worse in the near future. There was so much destruction.

I was making a list of damage in my head and wondering how long the list was going to get - trying not to think about if I was the only uninfected person to survive - when I heard a motor vehicle. It was one of those military canvas trucks and I was for sure that it was Cochran come to check on me. I started running to meet it when the small sapling I had been next to practically blew apart.

I skidded to a stop and ducked and screamed at them, "Hey! What's the big idea?!"

I heard from the truck, "Oh #$%, it's a kid."

"I'm not a kid you jerk! Do you idiots have puss in your brains or what?!" Maybe not my finest moments but I'd just been through a lot.

That shut them up for about ten seconds. "Are you infected?" they called.

"Any why would anyone with any commonsense expect to get an honest answer from someone who is? No I'm not infected but you should be smart enough not to take my word!"

Then a man got out of the truck and said, "I know you. Didn't think you'd still be here."

I squinted into the bright sun and realized I knew him too. "You're Sgt. Bryer. We worked together one day."

I saw him nod and he said, "Come ahead but do it slow and steady."

He finally let me get face to face and I took my jacket off momentarily to show to the best of my ability that I hadn't been bitten. The men were looking at me like I shouldn't be here. "Where's Cochran and Major Watson?" I asked as I zipped back up.

He spoke quickly, obviously in a hurry over something. "They headed south to try and stop the private contractors from sending any more infecteds this way and enforce the new federal law that only authorized federal troops could handle the migrations. Right after they left the main front of the horde that we'd expected arrived. We had it handled but then we got slammed from out of the east the next day with a horde coming in from Michigan from a different private contracting firm. Too many people tried to butt to the head of the line to have their infecteds carted off out west. All of the other collections points are experiencing the same thing." He swallowed. "Look girl, the camps around the lake were mostly overrun. We've been able to evacuate out most of those that are left but there were a few hold outs. You've got one last chance to get out and then all of the troops in this area are bugging out."

I was trying to process everything he said and afraid to ask any questions except, "When and where?"

"Fifteen hundred hours at that place you signed up for the work detail."

"That's five hours away."

"And some will still get left behind. We don't know where all of the camps are on this side of the lake to warn them."

"I know where they are. I'll tell them. I know all the short cuts across the forestry roads. How bad are the puss brains?"

"We've got them temporarily boxed in but as soon as we bug out they are going to be released. Are you sure about your offer? We've still got to warn the other side of the lake?"

As crazy as it sounded I was positive. Something told me if I didn't do it I'd regret it. I'd always wonder if people had to die or become infected because I was a coward or didn't care enough.

"What about the Singing Water camp?"

"The ones down the road? They've bugged out already. They lost a few people but when they got overrun thems were smart. They took some boats and got their people towards the center of the lake. Even when the infecteds tried to follow them they fell through the ice."

Emotionlessly I said, "So the lake is contaminated."

"Yeah, and you be sure and tell them people. Ain't gonna be no way to live around here for a while. Now get and be sure and get yourself back in time."


	109. Chapter 109

Part 109 ****

I only stopped at the cabin long enough to grab my day pack and to make sure that the trap door was locked. I laughed at myself - though it didn't sound funny - thinking I'd never be coming back but old habits die hard and when you have a hidey hole you keep it as safe and as hidden as you can even if you doubted you would ever use it again. I learned in the city that it was always better to be safe than sorry.

I was wound up with adrenaline and was almost shot at the first camp because I hadn't thought about scaring anyone.

"Youch! Hello the camp! It's just me. DeeDee Phillips!"

"Whatcha want girl? We don't have nothing to spare," a hard man told me. I recognize him but he wasn't one I knew though I think his name was Abe.

"Don't want anything. The military said ..." and I proceeded to tell them. That generated some excitement because they all thought they had missed the evacuation. Soon enough they were packing up.

They told me not to bother with the next camp as they had checked and no one had survived. They were the ones I called "mean" because they were so crazy about no one coming that might carry the infection. I still stopped anyway just on the off chance but there was no chance that anyone uninfected was around. The odd fence of debris they'd erected around their camp was completely knocked down as was the rough camp buildings inside.

I only had two more camps to reach and was making good time. One was a ghost town but the last demanded that I stay and help them pack.

"Are you people crazy?! There isn't any time! You need to get going now. Run or with all them with you you'll never make it!"

They tried to stop me and it was a mess fighting them off and telling them to stop wasting time. They were so crazy they shot at me as I ran back the way I had come. No way was I going to risk going the way they were.

The first camp was already deserted and it made me happy that I'd saved some people. Stupid. Never should have taken my mind off of what I was doing. I was running. What smart person runs in the forest if there isn't something chasing them? And what the heck person would think they were like the deer and could sail over thickets and just keep going without really watching where they were going? A noodle brain, that's who.

I'd jumped several leafless thickets of some kind of brambleberries. Sure they'd caught my pants a couple of times but that was no big deal, things were always catching on my pants when I was walking in the forest. Only I wasn't walking this time. I underestimated the distance to get over one thicket and was really grabbed by the brambles so when I come down I'm basically hopping trying to stay upright and keep going at the same time. I no sooner really get my balance back when my foot goes down a rabbit hole but because I'm running the rest of me tries to keep going.

WHAM! Straight down and hard enough to knock the wind out of me. But my foot was still down the hole. It felt like it was being torn off the end of my leg and I just about screamed.


	110. Chapter 110

Part 110 ****

It was like being frozen for a few seconds and then I quickly crawled backwards to get my foot loose from the hole. Oh it hurt all right but I could still wiggle my toes and move my ankle. Nothing crunched or anything like that. So no bones were broken but man did it hurt.

It was about that time that I noticed how gray the sky had gotten. And I also realized that I was just barely going to make it on time. I got up and tried to walk and nearly fell down again. The foot wasn't broken but I'd obviously sprained it badly. I'd done the same thing in the city once and Doc had stayed with me for a couple of days, even carried me for a while piggy back, while it healed and then we hooked back up with the group.

Yeah, I know Doc was a scuzz there at the end but he also had a good side and I learned a lot from him and he did take care of me when Sherry got too involved in her own troubles. I guess most people are like that; there are good things and bad things about them. The question is whether or not the good things outweigh the bad things. In the beginning Doc had more control over his bad side, you wouldn't even had known he had one. In the end he had started to lose control of that part of himself. Maybe it was a blessing that it ended the way it did for him. I guess I'll never know how far he would have been willing to sink.

But at that point in non-memory land I was nearly sinking to my knees with every step. I still wasn't ready to give up. I found a stick and used it like a crutch. I told myself my foot would feel better in a few steps, then a few steps more. The terrain was hard to travel hobbling like I was so I switched to using the forestry roads instead of cutting across. It made walking a little easier but it added distance that only made things worse. Then I felt a wet, cold breeze across the back of my hands and I realized some kind of storm was on the way.

I tried, I really did but about a mile from my cabin I admitted defeat. I also knew no one was coming to the rescue. Small snowflakes had begun to fall from the sky and there was no way I was going to get where I needed to get in twenty minutes; I wouldn't even be close enough to scream for help.

There were only a few snowflakes but the air was getting a lot colder. That was good to keep the puss brains out of commission ... those that would stay out of commission ... but at the same time it was a calamity of mammoth proportions. Where could I stay? I decided to head for the Singing Water camp. It was snowing slightly worse by the time I made it there. It wasn't that it was snowing harder but that the snow that there was seemed to dance around like a bunch of hyperactive three year olds.

I hadn't been on the grounds since I'd been there with my family and all the changes that had been made since then made it surreal, trying to see it the way it used to be. It didn't help to see the remains of the slaughtered animals lying all over the place. Some of the buildings I expected to see were gone and then there were some that stood out as being almost painfully new but overall there was the destruction left behind by the madness of the puss brains. I was painfully thirsty by that time and headed straight for the wellhouse which, thank Providence, hadn't been too badly damaged and still had a prime. I didn't see any obvious contamination - they had damaged the outside of the building but didn't look like they had come inside for some reason - but I still let fresh was flow for several pumps before I filled my canteen.

I was an hour looking around the camp. I spotted a lot of things I could use (after some cleaning) to survive but no place I could stay during a storm that wasn't badly compromised. The puss brains had damaged most everything but there were a couple of sheds that hadn't been broken into. I knew that the same combination had always been used by the family - Dad had fussed at them for their lack of security - and it was 0911 or 0711 and sure enough that got me into where I wanted to go. One shed was the food storehouse and there was less than I expected but still more than enough for one person for at least a few weeks. Another was full of salvaged junk. And the third held empty storage containers and things like that. I would have stayed in the sheds if I'd had no other choice but they weren't weather proofed ... no windows, just shutters, and no chinking between the rough boards and logs used to build them.

One of the "things like that" from the salvage storage shed was a garden wagon and I pulled it out along with several large jugs. I took these over to the well house and filled them. The wellhouse would be my only source of clean drinking water as there was no way to say how badly contaminated the creek was (is). I also took a few things out of the food shed before relocking it - and changing the combination.

I felt like a one legged mule pulling that wagon back to my cabin. Yes, my cabin. I wasn't really aiming for the cabin but to my bunker. There was no way to secure some place cleaner in the short time I had. By the time I got there the water in the jugs was getting slushy so I knew it was probably in the teens or single digits. The only reason I was warm at all was because of all of the effort I was exerting.

Finally I lifted down the last items from the wagon and did my best to crawl down one last time without falling down. The wind was blowing even more fiercely and it tried to rip the trap door out of my hand but I finally managed to close and secure it properly. It wasn't tropical warm down in the bunker but it wasn't nearly as close as it was outside either. Getting out of the wind made me realize just how tired I was. I laid down in my nest of bear skin rug and promptly went to sleep. It was a long time before I woke up.


	111. Chapter 111

Part 111 ****

My foot was way worse when I woke some hours later to the sound of a blizzard above my head. It was swollen and stiff and asleep where it had swollen inside my boot. Getting it off nearly had me puking but I managed it and then called myself three types of lunkhead for not doing it right the first time around. As soon as I got it out of the boot it swelled even more but at least the feeling was starting to come back ... not that that felt too nice.

I stood up the best I could and crawled/hobbled over to the water jugs and I noticed that the closer I would put my hand to the ceiling of the bunker which was the floor of the cabin, the colder it would feel. I realized that snow was probably blowing in and piling up inside the walls and across the floor. I hoped that it would eventually add some insulation but I didn't want it to seal me in, cut down my oxygen, and just thinking about the mess that would be coming when it thawed made me even more nauseous than my ankle was already making me.

It was a three day blizzard. By the end of the third day my ankle and foot were still bruised but back to normal size. I needed to get out, get some fresh air, dispose of my personal waste, and take care of other necessities like getting more water from the well house and trying to figure out some kind of stove so that I could eat something that wasn't dry or ice cold. I also needed to clear my head and start deciding what I was going to do.

While it was still cold enough to keep the puss brains down I needed to move.

For the next two days I salvaged what I could from Singing Waters before I was stopped by another three-day blizzard. After that storm I got brave enough to go back to see if all of the camps had indeed evacuated. I found a few people that had tried to hold out who had frozen to death - or starved to death, I'm not sure as it was hard to tell - but no live person, uninfected or not.

Then there was another real humdinger of a storm that lasted five days. It wasn't really a blizzard because there wasn't any wind in it; but, it did snow quite a few more inches onto the already snow covered ground. During that one I nearly went bonkers but it did give me time to think, or maybe forced me to think is a better way of saying it. I knew there was no way that I was going to be able to stay in the national forest area. If the weather didn't get me, starvation eventually would. I'd seen the remains of a lot of animals. The puss brains had torn into anything that moved while they were running loose. That would mean that hunting was going to be pointless. Even if I could overcome that I still had to deal with the fact that all of the water and land for who knows how many miles in every direction was contaminated.

And eventually all those puss brains that the weather was holding away were going to come out of hibernation. The blizzard and storm season wouldn't last much longer and I needed to get gone before they woke up and started moving. I also needed to get on the road before the thaw really set in or I would get bogged down in mud and floods. The question that I couldn't answer was which direction would I go. Every one had their own problems.

North was only more cold and I wasn't exactly likely to be met with opened arms at the Canadian border. More than likely they were hacked off plenty at having so many puss brains coming their direction. East would just be smack into the hordes from the large urban centers. South would have to be through more hordes and it would be like backtracking due to failure. West ... well I'd never been west but that would be chasing the puss brains being shipped out there. I decided just to get away first and then see what I ran into before positively committing to anything.

Between storms I tried to figure out how much I could carry; what I would take and what I would leave behind. It wasn't easy. Not all of the equipment Jace had provided had held up. Some that had had proven to be less than useful. I carefully separated things until I had a pile that would fit in the best backpack. I had to leave a few things I really wanted because they were too heavy or awkward ... like a small camp chair and the wind up lamp from the trailer.

That didn't leave me a lot of room for food and I couldn't really count on hunting because I didn't know where I was going, if the infecteds had stripped it, or if the uninfected had stripped it just trying to survive. I suspected the winter was bad for people and that those left might be dangerous but I didn't know for sure. But better to be safe than sorry ... plan for the worst and hope for the best. Only I don't have a lot of hope left in me. I know I should be grateful that I've survived. I figure I must still have some purpose to fulfill. I just don't seem to have a lot of energy to get excited about it.

I was running out of cans of food though I tried to piece it out what supplies that had been left behind by the mass evacuation of the area. Singing Waters gave me a lot of wild rice, dried meat and fish, dried cranberries and other wild berries, a small supply of dried apples, some homemade sausages, a few dried vegetables that they must have been able to get from their gardens, maple syrup, honey, and a few other odds and ends. It sounds like a lot of food but it wasn't; it went quickly as I was unable to add anything to it because everything else was contaminated. I missed having cattails whenever I wanted them and fussed because I had let my personal supply get so low.

I decided that I was going to try and pull the wagon that I'd been using to haul things from the various camps. It held some of the equipment I couldn't carry and would hold most of the food I had left. I reminded myself not to put all of the food in the wagon but to shift some things around so that some was in my pack and some in the wagon in case I had to drop the handle and run. That way I wouldn't lose everything.

By the middle of March I simply had no choice. It was starting to rise above freezing during the day ... not a lot on some days but enough that the snow was turning to slush and mud. It was get out or get bogged in. Those first steps back the way I had come from were really difficult to make. But I didn't have the option of doing anything else. Part of my plan to survive had failed ... but part wasn't a failure because I had survived. I try and take the good with the bad but like I said before, it's become hard to get too excited about things. Getting excited means you feel something and feeling something just seems to line you up for another kick in the pants.


	112. Chapter 112

Part 112 ****

Pulling the wagon was awful; it was like pulling my arm out of its socket a little bit at a time and as slowly as it could happen. I knew eventually all the food would be gone and the load would be lighter, but it was still awful. And the mud and soft ground didn't help at all; at least in the beginning I didn't have to deal with actual muddy and flooded roads. I did later which made things even more fun. Not.

I was also a lot jumpier than I was even in the city. At least in the city I was with others and we could take turns on guard or on point but during that time there was only me. It meant I didn't have anyone dependent on me, eating my supplies, but it also meant that there was no one I could depend on but me. Kind of a catch-22.

I walked, I slept, I hid from the puss brains, I gave a few some mercy when they just wouldn't leave me alone. That was the sum total of life except when I was avoiding uninfected people. There were some decent people I suppose but most of them looked rougher than I did and they were all salvaging ... whether the places they were salvaging wanted them to or not. I looked through a few places to keep my skills sharp but I never found anything better than what I already had and there were a few things I could have used.

It was monotonous and mind numbing. My boots began to wear out - one of those things I never found replacements for - then I started to run out of duct tape to keep them from flapping and completely falling apart.

It was in April - fourth month of the year to equal the four large holes in both of my boots - when I reached the stateline and entered the St. Croix river area. I used Hwy 77 which magically turned into Hwy 48 as soon as I entered Minnesota. The area along the river was beautiful and I decided to stop and regroup and make some decisions. It was tempting to just keep walking and being mind numb but I knew I couldn't.

I walked into this subdivision looking for some place I could put up for the night. The houses looked long abandoned but I took no chances. I skipped the storage sheds behind the houses for the same reason. Then in one overgrown yard I found the perfect place that was the perfect size and pretty much fitted my mood. It was a large doghouse ... almost a dog mansion. I was sure that there was no way I wanted to meet the dog that once called it home, it must have been enormous. There was an eyebolt on the outside which told me the dog had been chained at one point but the lack of dog odor let me know it was long gone one way or another. The door was wide enough I could even pull the wagon in without unloading anything except a few things on top. Even with the wagon inside the doghouse with me there was enough space for me to sleep comfortably.

I poked around before finalizing it as my choice of hotel to make sure there weren't any critters in there and after only finding a turtle shell - long empty of its wearer - I pulled out my bedroll and got comfortable.

Jace's words kept coming back to me. I needed a plan. I could not keep wandering aimlessly like those nomads I had read about in social studies. Maybe if I had a tribe to wander with, but even then I didn't think that would be the life for me. I also admitted that I was depressed. I know that sounds really stupid. I had just survived possibly the worst thing yet after losing my family, and I had enough food to go for quite a while before I got desperate, but I was greedy ... I wanted more. Not more food or more stuff ... but more something. At the same time I also knew that "the more" would cost me somehow. I'm still not sure how much this is going to cost me but I suppose just like eventually everyone leaves, eventually everthing has a cost.

I was laying their quietly thinking when suddenly there was a bunch of racket and I heard someone say, "McClintick you are an idiot. How in God's name could you have left the gate open on the pen?!"

"I didn't. I swear I didn't! I don't know how those damn birds got out. Sgt. Shadwell is going to kill us!"

Someone else told him, "Ain't killin' us. You're taking the fall for this one dip-for-brains. If anyone is going to die it is going to be you fat boy."

"But I latched the cage! I did!"

"Latch ... you only latched the cage? You know the hook is bad! Didn't you chain it shut?!"

"Uh ..."

I heard several men groan and one of them say, "If Shadwell doesn't kill you I just might. This is the third time you've done this and if we lose any more hens it's gonna come out of our pay. Why they stuck us with such a loser ..."

"I didn't ask to go with you. They promised I was going to work in an office if I signed up. I'm a college graduate for God's sake, with a BA in accounting. Why should I be out here scrounging around with you?"

I heard a bunch of shuffling around then a solid thud. One of the men said, "Take that sack of zombie waste to the honey truck and toss him in. Maybe that will sweeten him up."

"More'n likely he'll just stink that thing up worse."

There were a few tired snickers but no real laughter or humor. These men were tired and weren't having a real good day. I was peeping out of a knot hole when I happened to glance up and nearly started laughing. The whole time they were out there several plump chickens had been roosting in the trees above them and staring down.

Then into the clearing came several rough looking women, one of whom looked like she could have played the role of a valkyrie from some ol' Norse legend ... except she was wearing enough clothes to cover all the vital areas which valkyries apparently do not if you believe the paintings and statues of them. In fact she looked like she'd eat anyone that tried to politely take her coat.

I could actually hear the guy closest to the doghouse swallow when she showed up. "Well?"

"Uh ... Sgt. Shadwell ... ma'am ... uh ..."

"I'll take that to mean that you haven't found them yet."

One brave guy volunteered, "It was McClintick ma'am. He only put the latch on, didn't use the chain."

There was a pregnant silence and I could see the muscles in her working then she sighed. "The honey truck?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Very good. I believe I'll go have a discussion with Pvt. McClintick and suggest he give up his pay so the rest of us aren't penalized for his stupidity ... or else."

I don't know what possessed me. "Pssst. Stop making so much noise and look up."

Everyone in the clearing froze except for one young woman who automatically did just that. Then in the next breath I had a bunch of guns pointing at the dog house.


	113. Chapter 113

Part 113 ****

"Do you mind not doing that?" I asked politely. "It makes me feel kinda stupid for helping you out."

"Open the door slowly."

"No kidding," I muttered regretting trying to be nice.

When the door was opened I asked, "Can I come out now?"

"Carefully. And I want to see those hands," the woman purred menacingly like something out of a movie.

When I had climbed out and stood up they just stared at me. "What? Have I got boogers in my nose or something?"

The young woman who had looked up said, "Naw. I think they just thought there would be more of you. You're a runt."

I looked at her and realized she was a little different ... more different than Sunny had been but she also seemed to have a different personality too. I smiled for the first time since I'd seen the last of Cochran - she was that kind of person - and said, "Yeah, I get that alot. My name's DeeDee."

I could tell my feigned lack of concern was making the men uncomfortable and the women irritated. Sgt. Shadwell shook her head and said, "Kid, do you have a death wish?"

"No ma'am only I'm not a kid, I'm sixteen ... nearly sixteen and a half."

"Oh yeah, you're ancient all right. You got anyone else in there with you?"

"No ma'am."

"Are you AWOL?"

"You mean like in the military? No ma'am."

"Have you got people?"

I felt talkative so I gave her the truth. "Family? No ma'am they all died on what most people call Z-Day. I was a part of a group is St. Louis after that but then was able to escape the city. I wandered for a while and wound up in the north of Wisconsin only some civilian contractors totally messed that one up. My friend Sarge ... only he isn't a Sgt. any more but a Major ... was going to go south to try and talk some sense into them and make them wait their turn only some more civilian contractor bunch sent a bunch in from the east. They evacuated everyone they could only I got left behind."

"Some friend," Sgt. Shadwell said snidely.

My temper snapped. "Don't you talk about him that way! It wasn't his fault. He had orders to go south, he didn't know about the ones coming in from the east or he wouldn't have left me! He wouldn't have!"

I heard a lot of drawn breaths, and even I wondered if I was going to take a dirt nap but I didn't care. Sarge is my friend. Friends have each other's backs even when the other isn't around.

All Sgt. Shadwell did was hike up her eyebrow like Mom always had when my toes were as close to the line as she was gonna let them get with no consequences. "And what is this Sarge's name?"

"I call him Sarge and he said that is all I better call him. He isn't too happy about his field promotions. His proper rank is Major ... Major Lock Watson. And don't bother asking me what unit or whatever because I haven't got a clue. He never told me and all I know is that he was babysitting those stupid scientists that have rocks for brains."

That got her interested. "Well, well, well ... I might just be able to check your story after all Short Stuff."

"If you think picking on my size is going to irritate me try another one. I've been short my whole life and have heard every joke in the book and probably a few more that aren't worth writing down. By the way, your chickens are about to get away."

That moved them.


	114. Chapter 114

Part 114 ****

"I don't see why you want to stay in a stunk up dog house." Lucy, the name of the "special" soldier, was nosey. Oh she was nice about it but really, really nosey. "Why don't you want to stay in the house with us?"

"The dog house doesn't stink. And I don't want to stay in the house because it has too many openings for something to come in."

"And just as many to escape out of if something does come in," she replied. She had me there.

"I don't suppose I can argue with that but look, for the last little bit I've been sleeping in small spaces. I'll feel safer ... and warmer ... in the doghouse. Besides, your people don't want me. I'm not one of them."

She shrugged. "We aren't allowed to kick civilians out of protected spaces. We can make them share the space in an emergency but we can't force them out. And we can't make them feed us either. Or blackmail them that if they don't do something for us willingly that we won't do our jobs, whatever that is at the time. We got lots of rules like that."

"Sounds like," I admitted. "What do you all do exactly? I know what Sarge's group does but I haven't seen any puss brains since I got near river."

She shrugged, "The Navy takes care of the river from infecteds to pirates. They take care of all the inland waterways and the coast too, except where the militia has enough resources that they don't need the navy helping out. They just got done with a big battle out in the Gulf where some bad boys thought they were gonna take over the oil refineries. Guess they didn't expect our military to be as organized as it is. Most countries are kinda running wild the way we hear it. But we've got the militias and active duty personnel plus we got all them medical people that got drafted and then stayed to help even when they didn't have to no more."

This was stuff I hadn't heard. I guess with no news, and no radio, things some people would consider common knowledge were like science fiction to someone else. And I guess Cochran or Sarge just were too concerned with their piece of what was going on to sit down and give me a nightly news report.

We were still chatting when a long shadow fell over us. We looked up and then Lucy hopped up down from the dog house roof where we had both been sitting and stood at attenion. I moved more slowly but did the same; it seemed the polite thing to do even if it did make me feel like a midget next to Sgt. Shadwell.

"What are you two doing out here? It is going to be dark soon."

I noticed Sgt. Shadwell didn't rag on Lucy as much as she did the others so I didn't fear her as much as I had or maybe as much as she wanted me to. Lucy said, "She doesn't want to sleep in the house. She says it has too many holes in it."

I opened my mouth and then shut it. Sgt. Shadwell looked at me and asked, "You were going to say something?"

I shrugged. "Not holes ... openings."

She looked at me and then said, "Your attitude isn't difficult to understand. You've been on your own for a while. Used to having to cover your own back. A location with too many openings would present a lot of unnecessary challenges to a person on their own."

I almost shrugged then thought better of it and said, "Yes ma'am."

She just kept looking at me and then said, "I confirmed your story and just got off the radio with one very relieved officer who seems to think that you must have more lives than a cat for all the trouble you've gotten into and then out of."

Quietly I said, "I don't go looking for trouble."

She shook her head and said, "No, I don't suppose you do."

I asked, "Is ... is he ok? He isn't mad at me or anything is he?"

With a twist of her lips she said, "No, he's not mad at you or anything. But you do realize there is nothing he can do for you."

I was glad he wasn't mad and surprised that she'd thought that I expected someone to do something for me. "Of course, it isn't his business to take care of me, it's mine."

"Is that why you were heading this way?"

I shook my head. "I just kinda came this way trying to get around the floods and stuff from the spring thaw. Plus I was trying to avoid where I knew hordes were going to be coming from. East and South were out. North was out because I don't want to go to Canada. That left West."

"But what are you planning to do from this point forward?"

I finally didn't have anything left but a shrug. "That's why I stopped here. I need to figure some things out."

She looked like she was going to say something but then stopped. She looked at Lucy and said, "Time to go in."

"But ma'am she ..."

"Is perfectly capable of deciding for herself."

I nearly fell down. That is the first time anyone actually gave me that much credit. I mean people "let" me run my life but it always seemed like they thought they could run it better. Sgt. Shadwell wasn't letting me, she just thought it was none of her business. That was very cool.


	115. Chapter 115

Part 115 ****

The night hadn't been too bad. Right in the middle it got really cold but by first light it was a little better. I crawled out of the doghouse cautiously but after sensing no trouble I stretched and then dug a hole to start a smokeless fire so I could fix my breakfast. My options were limited but I figured I could fry up a little leftover wild rice and toss in some dried cranberries and it wouldn't taste too bad.

Then I saw Lucy come out of the house and boy did she look in a lousy mood. I waved and asked, "What's up?"

She growled, "My turn at breakfast. I hate cooking. Hate it, hate it, hate it. Nobody is ever happy. I say if they don't like my cooking then they can take my turn but they won't. None of us like cooking. And we wouldn't have to only our last cook went AWOL when she hooked up with some fisherman and ran away to have sex all the time like she wanted to. Now we're stuck. And the guys all make fun of us too 'cause none of us can really cook. Even that stupid McClintick."

"Well the guys take turns cooking too don't they?"

"Huh?" she asked confused and then her face cleared. "Oh, you think we are all together. Nope. Women and men aren't allowed to serve in the same patrol. Sgt. Shadwell runs our unit but we have to have separate patrols within the unit. Our unit has five patrols ... four male patrol groups and one female patrol group. You only see two of our patrols here, two more are back at base and one is on RNR ... that free time to do what you want so long as you report back when you are supposed to."

"How many people does each patrol have in it?" I asked curiously.

"Five ... five person patrols in five patrols plus Sgt. Shadwell and there are usually five units in a given patrol area but we try not and overlap too much but it means that someone should always be close if things get bad."

"Do things get bad very often?"

"Used to. Not so much over the winter except when we get called in to clean up a town squabble or something."

I was thinking about what she said when a man walked by and practically threw a basket at Lucy before walking on without another word. Under her breath I heard Lucy say, "Jerk."

"Are they always like that? The men I mean."

"No. They're all just bent because McClintick went AWOL during the night and now they are going to be a man short. They used to make McClintick do all the grunt work now they don't have anyone to do the fetching and carrying for them."

"Yeah, they seemed like they really ragged on him alot."

"Well he was stupid with a capital stoop. My ma would have named him Useless if she'd lived to meet him. Always bragging about stuff that doesn't matter anymore. He was asking for trouble."

She was staring hard at what was in the basket and then sighed. "Powdered eggs, bread, powdered milk, brown sugar, butter, and dried fruit ... this time bananas. Same old same old. I guess it is scrambled eggs and toast again. They can sprinkle the bananas with the sugar for snack or something." Then she sighed again. To me it sounded like a banquet but I guess a steady diet of anything will get old.

Then I thought of something Toddie and his scout friends used to do and smiled. "Hey, if I teach you something can I share? I mean is it against the rules if I contribute something?"

Slowly she said, "Noooo. Sgt. Shadwell even said she figured you might be eating with us if you didn't haul butt before first light."

That was all I needed to know. "Hang on." I dug out the bag I kept all my seasonings in - I still had a lot left over from the trailer salvage and had decided I was not leaving any of it behind. I pulled out a couple of items and then came back. I also brought back a small jug of maple syrup that I had salvaged from the Singing Waters camp. I asked her, "What do you think about French toast?"

"I think you're dreaming."

I smiled. "C'mon. Let's hurry before they get wind of it or it won't be a surprise."

First thing I did was throw the dried bananas in a pot with some water so they could soften up. I nearly ate one but I'm not a little kid and it isn't my stuff. If Lucy could be trusted I'd be getting a taste soon enough anyway.

We used the fire I had already started but her patrol's grate and big skillet since all I had was my mess kit. I put two tablespoons of the butter in the skillet and added a quarter cup of the brown sugar and stirred it until the butter was melted. Then I added the bananas that had plumped up about as much as they were going to ... I drained them first to keep them from popping and splattering and generally making more of a mess to clean up.

When the bananas were heated through from my supplies I added just a bit of rum extract diluted with just a little water and then brought the mess to a boil for a minute to kinda make it like a candy syrup. While I stirred the mess to keep the sugar from burning Lucy whisked together four eggs and a cup of milk made from the powdered milk supply. I had her add a little vanillar extract to it as well. We cut the loaf of bread into eight thick slices and then laid them in the egg mixture to soak it up which only takes a minute or two.

I scrapped the hot banana mixture into a bowl and then added more butter to the skillet. A couple pieces at a time I fried the bread on both sides until it was golden brown and looked around for something to plop them onto when I noticed the three other women plus Sgt. Shadwell staring down at what we were doing.

One of the women said, "Please God let that taste as good as it looks and smells."

She said it so funny that I nearly laughed. Lucy with her eyes scrunched in concentration said, "It better 'cause if it doesn't it isn't going to be my fault."

I told her, "Stop worrying it to death. Where are the plates so I can start ..." I never got to finish because I had four mess kits shoved in my face.

Everyone got about a piece and a half of the bread and a glob of the banana mixture on top of that. There was enough powdered milk left for them to have a small glass of milk each - and me too - and then those that wanted a little extra sweet put a little maple syrup on the side.

Clean up wasn't too bad because they all try to rake what little bit of leavings there were and then everyone washed their own mess kits with some hot water that I had put on the last of the fire while we ate.

Lucy had taken off and I wasn't sure what to do with the skillet I had just finished washing when I looked up to find Sgt. Shadwell staring down at me.

"I have something you should really think about," she told me.


	116. Chapter 116

Part 116 ****

"Am I in trouble?" I asked carefully.

"No. Should you be?"

I shook my head. "No. It's just when someone says they have something you need to think about it usually means that whatever you are doing isn't giving them warm and toasty feelings."

She chuckled softly. "OK, I suppose at your age I would have thought the same thing. And to a certain extent you are right ... what you are doing now doesn't give me warm and toasty feelings but you are old enough to screw up your own life and I shouldn't have to go around with a burp rag and clean your chin."

I shrugged. "OK then what do you need?"

"I don't need ... well, yes in a way I do. First I want to know if you have any serious plans or ways to support yourself."

Trying to keep an open mind and not be totally bug-eyed suspicious I asked, "Why do you want to know?"

"It isn't simple curiosity if that's what you are wondering and trust me, I have no desire to be your social worker. However, I'm in a catch-22 here. Where you've been the infrastructure has broken down so badly that a kid your age running loose isn't unusual and for the most part no one cares. Am I wrong?"

"Not exactly. There are people that care just ... I don't know ... it kinda depends on where you are. Some places would probably try and do something to help and some places will just let you be but keep an eye on you and some might run you out with extreme prejudice."

She nodded. "OK and that's fine as far as it goes because usually the population density is low. You must have been lucky to avoid a lot of predators because I have seen the reports; abuse is pretty rampant in the east."

"I didn't avoid it per se, I just learned to deal with it and not get ... uh ... handled. My time in the city taught me that."

She gave me a penetrating look. "Well that explains a few things. But now on to the rest of why I asked. The further west you go - at least compared to the east - the better the infrastructure; at least until you get towards the Pacific Coast and then things get screwed up bad again with lots of incursion from the Mexicanos and from what pirates groups that get passed the Navy and militias. In the center of the country we still have some large urban centers that are relatively unscathed by the infection. They've had to learn to make do without a lot of things like interstate imports, which has whittled down the population quite a bit as medications and medical treatments became unavailable, but they are still more densely populated than other areas in the country currently are. As such you have to understand that rules have been instituted, and at least in part I'm responsible for enforcing them."

I gave up not being suspicious and I asked, "What kind of rules?"

"You can't just run wild. You'll inevitably run into trouble of some type. And while you might not mean to cause any of it, you'll get rounded up just like those who did start it."

"So you're saying I should go back where I came from."

She shook her head. "Not precisely. You've definitely got some options. You're sixteen, that means you can join the militias or the military as a contractor of some type. You can't be active duty until you turn eighteen - we still try and pretend to be civilized in this country and don't and won't draft below that age - but it doesn't mean that you won't see action."

I sighed. "I've fought puss brains for two years. I was hoping to find some place I could just hole up until they all died."

She shook her head. "Not gonna happen Short Stuff. The infection is too pervasive and in fact we may never totally be rid of it. And we've still got too many people that are idiots and spreading the problem rather than containing it."

"What about those puss brain dude ranch things that the scientists were building?"

She got a very negative look on her face. "They are already failing. Hordes do not behave the way single and small groups of infecteds do. The resources required to manage such groups are cost prohibitive as well as unrealistic to expect other people to simply give up. The designers of what you are calling the 'puss brain dude ranches' did not take that into account, or chose to ignore it. The security for those facilities are failing and we are being called in to deal with the resulting increase in wild infecteds."

Her words painted a really weird picture in my head. "What the heck is a wild infected?"

"It is an infected that is non-contained; one that is running loose, causing problems, and/or scaring people."

"Any puss brain, especially one that isn't contained, should scare people. They'll eat all your stuff 'cause they don't have any self control."

"What you have to understand is that the population in this area don't understand the full scope of the issue. They were also much less prepared than they thought they were to deal with a large influx of infecteds. They blinded themselves by believing in the idea that the ... er ... puss brains were being dealt with by the authorities. They thought they could turn the problem over to someone else and they wouldn't have to concern themselves with it."

I told her, "That's dumb."

She nodded. "So it turns out to be. But that's where you come in."

"Huh?"

"Look Short Stuff ... um DeeDee. I got a good report about you from your officer friend ... that Major Watson. Seems not much scares you."

I shook my head. "Plenty scares me, I just don't let it freeze me up and make me useless. Last thing I want to be is puss brain chow."

"Realistic and honest. Even better," she said with a small grin for my benefit. It isn't that she was trying to be my friend, it was more like she didn't want to be my enemy. Then she had to spoil it by saying, "But we are back to the issue of your future plans."

I looked her square in the eye and asked, "What do you want from me?"

She nodded. "Straight to the point, even better. The plain fact is that our unit has lost several people. AWOL is not uncommon these days as we are reduced to using people unsuited to military life and discipline, people get overloaded and short circuit, they get tired of all the work involved, or they simply want to go find their families. We don't have the security to bring them back in or frankly to punish them when they are caught or found. At best, unless there is a serious civilian grievance against them, we pack 'em up and send them to a labor camp but that doesn't solve the issue of being short staffed."

"I thought you said I was too young for active duty."

"You are, but I can sign you on as a contractor. My women's patrol group is pretty tight. They were all regular army and served several tours together overseas before Z-Day and as a result newcomers to the patrol have a hard time fitting in."

"Even Lucy?"

"Even Lucy," Sgt. Shadwell said. "And for the record she wasn't always like this. She suffered a head injury during the early days and her unit covers for her. No one says anything."

The message was implicit. Keep my mouth shut about Lucy being "different." That was fine by me. As long as her being different didn't put my life at risk it was no biggie.

After thinking a moment I asked, "You think me being younger will make it easier?"

She shook her head in the negative. "No, that is actually a mark against you. But ... ok, was that cooking this morning a one off or are you that creative on a regular basis?"

I looked at her and then answered, "I'm used to making my own way and using whatever is around. Plus my mom was pretty good at making a small paycheck and a small house go further than it should have. My brother was in scouts and I learned some stuff from him and Dad taught me about wild foods and things that Mom didn't teach me. So ... yeah ... I guess I can do stuff like that on a regular basis if I need to."

I got a sly grin for that response. "Good, good. Ok, here it is ... the women's patrol needs a cook. They'll have reason not to run over you too much because you feed them and if you take off or get reassigned they'll be back to doing it for themselves again and you saw how enthusiastic they were about that. You're used to being mobile in rough territory which will be another plus given our upcoming assignment, and alone on a regular basis too which is even better. You've made it this far so you're obviously a survivor and should be able to take whatever they try and dish out until they get smart and accept you which will be a major headache I won't have to deal with anymore. We've got supply issues which you will get explained to you."

"What's the catch?" I asked thinking it sounded too easy. In my experience things that were too easy always have a catch.

"Pay comes in credits once a month and coincides with a patrol's RNR which means it usually gets spent and then they are broke until the next RNR. The credits aren't accepted everywhere so you'll have to convert the credits to whatever passes for local currency but whatever is considered currency in one area may not be considered currency in another. You have to send money to any family members - though in your case that won't be a problem - rather than a direct deposit as was usual in the past because the banking system is no longer functioning on a national level due to the currency issues. You wear a uniform at all times to set you apart from the mercenaries, freelancers, and the militia who may or may not have their own uniforms. Not everyone is happy with the military operating on national soil so you'll have some of that to deal with. Obviously there is going to be danger involved and some deprevation ... you might be able to control one or the other but not necessarily both at the same time."

"That's just life happening," I told her after hearing the last bit.

She nodded. "Agreed. And there are other things that make life difficult but they are relatively minor all things considered. If you sign up I'll make sure you get outfitted though sizing may be an issue for some items. Now, you wanna hear the perks?"

I nodded cautiously.

"Well, pay may be once a month but you'll get paid one way or the other. The last thing the government wants to do is have a large, unhappy military force to deal with. Two, you'll get fed. It won't be steak and potatoes but again, no one wants a large, armed group of trained people hacked off and cranky. As part of this you'll also get your personal hygiene needs met. Don't blow that perk off because I hear from women in other patrols that in some areas feminine hygiene products will literally bring their weight in silver." That gave me something to think about as my monthlies have been hit or miss for a long time but when they hit I was happy Mom had always been old school and sewn our pads. I blanked at the thought of sharing that bit of news as she continued.

"Three, you're government issued weapon will also be fed which means you aren't having to wait in line for days for reloads that may or may not fire. There are rules governing firearms in most locations but that's to keep the mercs from running amok rather than being aimed at regular civilians or active duty personnel."

She went over more pros and cons, all of which I refuse to write down because my fingers are getting cramped and I need to try and sleep before our next stop which is the resupply point. So yeah, as you can guess I signed on. I don't have anything else to do. When you don't have anything to go back to all you have left is to move forward. I just hope that I am moving forward in a direction that doesn't get me killed.


	117. Chapter 117

Part 117 ****

So guess what my first "test" was? I, along with all the other new cooks, had to serve the older, experienced cooks a day of meals. And they got to grade us and based on our grade is the kind of supplies we would get for our patrol. OMG. No pressure there. It was like being back in school and suddenly finding out there is a huge exam, that it is all on stuff you've never studied, and you only have a couple of hours to study and take the exam. I mean carp ... seriously just total carp.

Each of us newbies had to serve between ten and twelve people. I was the youngest and one of the few females - figures wouldn't it - and none of us cooks were given too much guidance. We were simply pointed to what looked like a bicycle hot dog cart, told our supplies for the day were in there, and instructed when the meals were to be served. Otherwise we were told to just shut up and get to work.

As a matter of fact everyone else had known about the test before I did because I was the last one in off the train and no one realized I was actually a contractor and not some kid bound for the orphanage or a militia training camp. So it's like 4:30 in the morning when I get kicked awake - I think they meant it as a nudge but crankiness made it a little "nudgier" than necessary - and as I'm throwing on my boots trying to figure out what the issue is I get the situation explained to me. Let me repeat ... carp.

I walk cold - both figuratively and literally - to my station and then stare down into the box on the front of the bike. Well I'm already fuzzy brained from lack of sleep and worry that I'm doing the right thing and then there is next to no light to see by and add to that how blasted disorganized the supplies were ... I quickly went from fuzzy to furious. Must have done the trick though because I was determined that no one was going to get my goat over this. It seemed like a real hazing job and I just wasn't going to put up with getting picked on.

The supplies were a mish mash of fresh, canned, and dried stuff. I mean it looked nothing like I would have expected military supplies to look like. I figured there'd be some MREs and things like that but seriously, it looked like what Mom and I would bring home from the scratch-and-dent on the days they marked everything down to clear their inventory. The fresh stuff didn't look too pretty either.

I decided since the women had gone gaga over French toast the first time around that I'd just repeat it only there wasn't any dried banana slices. Instead I located three cans of sliced peaches. I would also need more than a skillet to cook in and I was pointed to a pile of beat up cookware. Carp. Instead of the stuff salvaged out of someone else's kitchen I grabbed a dutch oven I found buried in the pile.

The only concession made was our cooking sources. There were stoves, fire pits, and a few other things already up and going. I walked over to a fire made from what looked like briquettes and grabbed thirty-two of them ... twenty-one for the top of the dutchie and eleven for under it. I set my already dug hole up so that the dutchie could start warming up.

While that was going I took a dozen eggs - after cracking them I found they weren't what you would call the freshest dozen from the store so I was glad I hadn't decided on a quiche or anything - made two cups of milk from some powdered stuff, adding a little of my vanilla extract, and a little bit of powdered cinnamon as well. I noted that there weren't any seasonings in the supplies - not even salt and pepper - so I'm going to have to be on the lookout for stuff or substitutions.

I took a loaf of day old bread and sliced it and dunked them in the egg/milk mixture. I checked and the dutchie was ready so I removed the lid and threw in some butter - surprised me to have the real thing though it wasn't the pretty color of the storebought stuff Mom used to buy - and once it was melted I added about two and a half cups of brown sugar from a tub of it in my supplies. Then once the sugar was all melted I dumped in the drained peaches from the three cans, got them all spread out neat, and then placed the wet bread in a single layer over the top of that.

I put the lid back on the dutchie and left the coals in place. I knew I had about thirty minutes before it was ready so I took the peach nectar and watered it down just a little for "juice" and also put on a pot of what said it was coffee but looked more like some kind of chopped root. Good thing I wasn't a fan of coffee but knew how to fix it because Dad had drunk gallons of the black goop.

The other thing I started doing was organizing so I could see the sum total of what I had to work with. Being short I practically had to climb down into the metal box and was hanging in there upside down when someone slapped my rear bumper. I jumped up and out and had my bat in hand and was swinging it when Lucy grabbed it one-handed. She looked at the guy who had fallen back on the ground in surprise and said, "I oughta let her break your head open you idiot. She's a kid. You wanna wind up in front of Sgt. Shadwell?"

"She don't scare me."

"Then you're stupid." She looked at me and said, "Don't hit him, at least not while we are at base. No fighting permitted for any reason. If he touches you again, report it, just make sure it is to Sgt. Shadwell or one of the women officers."

The guy sneered and walked away like he ruled the world. Lucy asked, "Can I let go now or are you gonna go after him."

"Not worth it," I grumbled. She turned loose and I put the bat down but within easy reach. "What's the deal? I thought there were gonna be rules and stuff here."

She shrugged. "There are ... they just aren't always as enforced as they are supposed to be and some people get away with more than they should."

"So he's got friends?"

She looked at me and then smiled. "Yeah, but so do you. The others and I have already decided. You take care of us, we take care of you. We'll get that douche when we are out in the field. He'll figure out pretty quick he made a mistake. Shelly already don't like him so this will make her happy to have an excuse to pay him back for a few things." She handed me a pack that looked about half full. "This is some of your gear. After third meal one of us will make sure you get to Supply so you can finish getting outfitted."

"Am I supposed to cook for you all today?"

"Naw. When we are at base we eat in the chow line. Make sure you get a bite of what you're cooking because by the time you are finished the chowline will probably be closed. See ya."

Carp. Carp, carp, carp. I'm beginning to think this whole signing up to be a cook is going to be harder and involve a whole lot more than cooking and dealing with a few puss brains here and there. I've got a hand shaped bruis on my backside tonight that is making it difficult to get comfortable if you know what I mean.


	118. Chapter 118

Part 118 ****

I was really interested in seeing what Lucy had brought in the pack but no sooner had she taken off than ten of the biggest mish-mash of men show up and all but growl about me better having something decent to eat.

If they thought I was going to let them intentionally intimidate me then they had another think coming. Toddie's friends had treated me this way for years and I was completely immune. I had also had to deal with Moses and the other men in the group. But I suspected, just like Toddie and his friends as well as the rest of the men that I've run into, if you feed them they shut up quick enough. Besides, I'd dealt with puss brains and perverts way too much; compared to that these guys looked like pussy cats ... dirty pussy cats but yeah, definitely on the manageable end of things. So I told them, "Yeah, yeah. Keep complaining and see what happens to your lunch. You're cooks. You should know what happens when you hack a cook off."

They looked at each other like a frog had suddenly sat up and started singing ... like I might be interesting after all. Maybe. But they were still gruff enough that one little push back from me wasn't going to completely stop them. I hadn't figured it would, and their running commentary during the meal about short people, girls, and how they would have done things better had me real tempted to spike their coffee with some senna that I had found in an herbal shop after I left the Northern Woods. It might not be as powerful as it had been fresh but I was pretty sure it would still have them hopping to the latrines for the rest of the day if I gave into temptation. Instead I saved my supply of constipation fix and blew them off ... some things matter and some things don't. Although I swear, the way they acted they sure could have used a fix alright.

After breakfast they tried to get up and get away with not cleaning their dishes and I said, "Do I look like your Mom? There's the pan of hot water, have at it. 'Cause I guarantee if you don't I won't and you'll be eating lunch off of a dirty mess kit."

There was some grumbling over that but I think mostly because they thought they'd be able to trick me. Uh uh. I'd listened to Lucy and the other women enough to pick up a few things and one of them was that everyone was responsible for their own gear ... including their eating utensils, canteens, and mess kits.

I was very happy to see them go and from the look on the other cooks' faces up and down the area we'd been allocated for our test, the others were too. I was trying to pull my head together for the next go around when I saw a couple of boys close to my age running around delivering stuff to the other cooks. I stopped them with an offer to let them lick the spoons where I was mixing cake batter for supper's dessert. I said to them, "Hey, got a question."

"Figures," the blonde one said. "Girls always have ulterior motives."

"Not always but close," I admitted. "Anyway, look do you know if it is against the rules if I add my own stuff to the ingredients I was given?"

The redhead shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know why it would be. All the cooks do it when they are out in the field. You are kinda expected to make what you're given go further."

I cross my arms and muttered, "Well, woulda been nice if someone had mentioned it but thanks for the info." They were kinda skinny and there was a cool breeze blowing so I said, "Bring your mugs over here and have some Sherpa Tea. It's not much of a thank you but at least it is something."

The blonde seemed to be the more suspicious of the two and looked over into the pot of tea that I had brewed for myself and asked, "What's in it?"

"Water, tea, powdered milk, butter, honey, and some spices. I don't like coffee see, and I haven't seen chocolate in a long time, so this is the next best thing I could come up with. My brother's Boy Scout troop drank it a lot when they were camping in the winter."

Redhead said, "My brother was going for his Eagle BOR before Z-Day. That's board of review."

"I know what a BOR is," I told him. "My dad sat on the one in the Council where we lived. My brother made Eagle before he went off to college."

"Is he ...?"

I shrugged. "I'm pretty sure he is." Uncomfortable and irritated by the questions I asked, "You want some or not?"

"Yeah," they said in unison.

The redhead asked, "So what are you gonna add ... to the supplies I mean?"

"Squirrel. They've been driving me buggy trying to get into stuff. One almost bit me when I tried to shoo it off this morning. I can't believe there are so many around here. I figure people would have hunted them into extinction."

The blonde said, "We've only been set up in this location a couple of days. As soon as the suttlers get wind of our new location they'll get took out soon enough."

"The suttlers or the squirrels?" I asked a little confused at the way he phrased it. "And what are suttlers?"

The redhead snorted into his mug and the blonde one rolled his eyes but said, "The squirrels. Geez. Suttlers have tents they set up like the old strip malls used to be. You buy stuff from them. Although, come to think of it, you get around some of them suttlers long enough and you'll wish it was them you could catch and skin. Man, they'll take you for every bit of pay you got if they can."

The redhead said to him, "They ain't all that bad. You're just sore that that woman sold you them boots that were supposed to be water proof only they ain't. Now you got foot rot and you're in trouble with Dr. Matthews for not reporting it sooner."

The blonde growled like he was irritated at being reminded. I didn't say anything. I learned from Doc early on that taking care of your feet was as important as taking care of your eating utensils ... both could kill you from infection if you weren't careful. The discussion did remind me however that I might finally have the opportunity to get a new pair of boots or at least get the ones I was wearing fixed somehow.

Redhead asked me, "What ya gonna make with the squirrel? Stew, fry it, what?"

"Pizza."

Both boys looked at me like I'd suddenly grown a third eye on the end of my nose.

"You ain't either," Blondie said only it was more of a question than a denial of what I had said.

"I am too. Geez, call me a liar and not even know me."

Redhead asked, "Seriously? Pizza?"

"Yeah, what of it? Is it like forbidden or something?"

"Heck no," he said. "Just ... you know it costs a pretty penny to get a pizza when you can find a suttler that can bake it. And you don't have no oven from what I see. How you gonna fix pizza?"

"Geez, it isn't that hard." I explained how I was going to do it as I started making homemade corn tortillas.

They were only half way listening to me as they watched me make a pile of them. To shut their mouths on the questions that were about to fall out I handed them a couple to taste test for me. Finally the blonde says, "You don't look Mexi."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not. My dad had a friend that was married to a woman that was from Honduras and she taught Mom and me how to make these. Easier than having to bake bread all the time and cheaper than getting it from the grocery store too."

That flew right over their heads. I guess when there were still grocery stores they were too busy being boys to notice. Redhead gives me a squint and then says, "What say you and me make a bargain."

I don't care what age they are guys are still guys and I scooted a little away from him before asking, "What kind of bargain?"

"Not the kind you think I mean. And don't worry about thinking it. I got a sister ... she works in supply. She tells me what she has to put up with so I figured it must be the same for all females." He pronounced it fee-males like he wanted me to understand he didn't mean just girls or just women but all of them combined.

I nodded and said, "Ok but that isn't telling me what bargain you are trying to make."

The blonde elbowed him and redhead gave him a dirty look. "Don't try and tell me you don't want some."

"Want some what?" I asked even more suspicious.

"Squirrel pizza. I figure it can't be worse than the slop they dish out in the chow line and you look like you know what you are doing so ... the bargain is if I bring you some squirrels will you trade them for a slice of pizza?"

Relief swept through me. "Is that all? Don't be stupid. Sure. If you bring me, hmmm, let's say eight to ten squirrels ... the plumper they are the closer to eight but if they are skinny I'll need the full ten ... and leave their furs on and I'll trade you a pizza."

Surprised the blonde said, "A whole pizza?"

"Isn't that what I just said?" I looked at the redhead and added, "But you can't take too long because I'm going to have to skin and cook them before I can use the meat for the pizzas."

The redhead said, "For a whole pizza I'll gut and skin 'em for you."

"Can you skin them without wrecking the fur? I need to patch my coat where my pack has worn it threadbare in places across my back. I'm starting to see the stuffing between the layers."

He nodded. "Got the same problem only Dorrie - that's my sister - says I don't have enough on Account to get a new jacket yet and that I'd outgrow it anyway before next season so I'm making do. How you aim to fix your jacket?"

"Just get the squirrels and I'll show you. I gotta finish the filling for these Coyote Tortillas before those men show back up."

The blonde gave me a stupefied look and I shook my head. "Geez you're gullible. No, there isn't coyote meat in the filling. They're named after the coyotes - they're men - that used to get illegals across the border for a price. They have to travel fast and at night so food has to be portable and easy to eat too. Now get if you want any pizza."

They jogged off and I turned to find Lucy had materialized out of nowhere and was watching me. She said, "Making friends already? I'd watch it if I were you. You could get a reputation."

It was two second before I realized what she meant. "Ew. No. It's just a barter ... you know, a trade. There wasn't any meat in the supplies so I ..."

She interrupted, "Yeah, we heard."

"We?"

The other three women in the unit jumped down from the tree they'd been sitting in. Sherry was the leader and looked the part. She was pretty once - reminding me a bit of Dr. Ponytail - but the life she had picked had done its best to erase it. Gayle was the emergency medic and had already tried to give me the once over though I'd avoided what I could of it. She struck me as cold but she seemed to think of the other three women as her sisters and treated them that way. I had a feeling that she'd be a bad person to get on the wrong side of. I wasn't sure what her ancestry was but it was either Asian or Eastern European because her eyes were a strange almond shape that didn't match the rest of her features. Josie had announced that her biological mother was Haitian and her father French but that she'd been orphaned during an earthquake and then adopted by a childless couple here in the States. I think she'd been trying to egg me to tell my story but I was having none of it because I didn't need anyone - least of all four strangers - pick it apart or use it against me in some way. None of them spoke of having any family left alive and I sure wasn't going to ask. None of my business. I figured the more I stayed out of their hair the more they'd stay out of mine.

Instead I scowled and asked, "What's up playing panther? Don't think I can behave myself?"

Josie - apparently short for Josephine though she promised to cut my tongue out if I ever tried to call her that - snorted good naturedly which I'd already learned was a bad sign. "So ... you like to play with the boys?"

I gave them all a dirty look. "You soooo obviously don't know me."

"You like girls then? That your thang?" Gayle asked.

Getting upset I told them, "Nothing is my 'thang'. Leave me alone."

Shelly gave me a hard look and then told Josie and Gayle to knock it off. "Yeah, we were checking up on you to make sure you weren't getting into trouble. Heard Gibson complaining about the fancy breakfast he had to eat and how it was giving him indigestion."

"If he's who I think it wasn't the peach french toast that gave him indigestion but the snuff he had in his cheek while he was eating it. That has got to be the most disgusting thing I've ever seen ... peach juice and snuff juice running down his chin at the same time ... and I've seen some gross junk alright."

Shelly snorted and nodded. "That's Gibson. You think the snuff habit is bad, trying being the one that has to eat his cooking. I think he flavors everything with his spit."

"Carp, now that is gross."

Lucy laughed and told the other three, "See, I told you she can't even cuss."

"I can too cuss ... I just choose not to. Well most of the time. It's ... it's how I ... Never mind I'm tired of explaining it to people. You don't like it then don't listen. Look, I'm behaving so what else do you want? I'm kinda busy here."

Lucy was the one that asked, "You serious about Squirrel Pizza."

"Geez, does everyone around here need to clean their ears out? Yeah. Squirrel Pizza. It's no big deal."

Josie demanded, "We want one."

Fully prepared to appease them if it meant that they would go away I told her, "Fine. Whatever. Come back around six and I'll have one for you. Now go away, I'm busy."

And I was. I had a big bowl where I was mixing cooked rice, salsa from a can of it from the supplies I was given, and a couple of cans of drained black beans as well. I hadn't been able to find a grater so I was having to shave the block of cheddar cheese I had been given with a paring knife and it wasn't the easiest thing to do and talk at the same time.

Gayle said, "You need a better edge on that knife before you cut your thumb off."

"It has a good edge ... just did it this morning. It's just this cheese is as hard as a rock. It would probably save time just to crumble the stuff."

Shelly said with her own edge, this time in her voice, "You going to give us that pizza?"

"Not right this flaming second," I snapped as she had said it looming over me and I really had almost sliced my thumb off. "Come back at six o'clock like I told you." I heard grumbling coming from down the path and snapped. "Will you please scat already? Here they come and if I'm going to pass this test I don't need you making them grumpier than they already are."

Lucy asked, "Who said that's what we were going to do?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh I didn't just ride several hundred miles on a train with you. Nope, you all are a bunch of bo beeps just looking after your short little sheep."

Lucy grinned and was soon followed by the others but they did fade away before the grumpaholics showed up and said, "Lunch better be better than breakfast was."


	119. Chapter 119

Part 119 ****

There wasn't a single grain of rice or drip of salsa remaining when the group that was testing me left to go to some cooks' meeting at the supply tent. Testing me was the word for it too. I noticed on the train that being around so many other people so closely was irritating but since most of them had their own groups that they were hooked up with I was left alone most of the time. In camp I was having to deal with people on every side and I was just about done with it. I do not ever want to shame my parents but I keep getting close.

Mom was more sociable than Dad. Dad knew too much about people in town and they knew he knew; it made everyone uncomfortable though Dad never was one to gossip about work ... at least not to me though he might have talked to Mom sometimes. I got a few warnings about people but rarely specific details and I was always told that I was expected to keep it to myself unless something happened that I thought Dad should know about. Mom on the other hand liked to socialize though we didn't do it at our house which was too small for adult parties. She was always helping to organize stuff at the church or neighborhood block parties or stuff for the scouts or school stuff. Dad went along because it made Mom happy. I always thought I was more like Mom as far as people stuff went but maybe I'm turning out to be more like Dad. All I know is that at the end of every day after being cooped up and having to deal with so many people, my brain feels like it has been in a blender until I can crawl off to have some quiet and pull it together. But it is hardly ever quiet it seems. The train I was on rarely stopped for more than an hour at a time and was always noisy. And now even this Base seems to murmur and rustle 24/7. Even when I wake up in the middle of the night to have to hunt up the latrine there is always someone talking, working, or something. It is enough to make me want to scream and tell everyone to shut up and stop moving so I can have just five minutes of silence.

I was almost finished organizing the remaining supplies when the redhead - whose name turns out to be Chris - and the blonde who never did tell me his name or if he did it didn't register, came back with a baker's dozen of squirrels all skinned and gutted. I said, "I don't have anything to trade for the extra squirrels."

"Don't worry about it. The Colonel actually paid us to clean the squirrels out of his tent when he saw us hunting up the first couple we caught. He was complaining about how the rodents were getting into the paper files looking for nesting material and food. Anywho my name is Chris. What's yours?"

"DeeDee," I mumbled expecting them to make fun of it but they didn't so I relaxed.

I set the squirrel carcasses to cook with some salt and onions in the water and then showed Chris and the blonde guy how to wash and then stretch the furs so they they wouldn't dry all curled up. "I don't plan on these things lasting very long or I would tan them ... you do that with brains if you don't have fancy chemicals. I figure these will last until warmer weather sets in and I can just wear my plain leather coat after that. I made it myself out of deer hide." OK, so I'm a little proud about it.

"Serious?" the blonde asked like I was going up in his estimation.

"Serious," I said. "There was this old guy who taught me that kind of stuff. He was real tough, wouldn't settle and let me go to the next step until I got the one I was working on just right in his opinion. Mr. Svenson taught me a lot."

"Where is he?"

"I hope he is somewhere safe with his family. They got run out of the North Woods too - that's where I stayed last - and I probably would have gone with their group only I got separated from them. It was too much like stupid to try and find them after that so I started out on my own again."

"What do you mean again?"

Since I could do what I was doing and talk at the same time, and because they'd brought me more squirrels than I'd asked for, I felt obligated to pay them with answers to their questions. After I was finished with the squirrel pelts I started on the pizzas. I had found a half barrel attached to the side of the hot dog cart and decided to disconnect it and use it as a reflector oven. Chris and the other one didn't seem at all surprised so I figured it must have been one of the uses for it anyway. When I found screen shelves made of flat wire mesh that fit in the slots inside the barrel I knew I had guessed right. I was looking at a homemade reflector oven.

The "oven" had four shelves so I made four pizzas. I figured I'd bartered one to Chris and Blondie, promised one to Shelly and the other women to make them go away, and that would leave two to feed the men that were testing me. I knew two pizzas wouldn't go very far but they were testing my cooking not looking to get fat off of it. That was also why I made the cake in the dutch oven. Actually it was more like a dump cake than a regular fancy cake, plus it was shaped like the bottom of the dutch oven I cooked it in.

I tossed the contents of a large can of pie filling in the bottom of the dutchie, sprinkled a little bit of the brown sugar over that, and then made up a simple cake batter and poured that over the top of the gunk already in the dutchie. I then set the dutch oven on a few coals and put a few on the lid. It only needed about twenty to thirty minutes to bake up ... just in time for the pizzas to be finished.

Chris and blondie hauled theirs away like I might change my mind and renege on our trade. They actually had it in their hats because it was too hot to carry. Gross. And it irritated me but I realized they didn't know me well enough to know they'd just insulted me so I let it go. Besides, after dealing with Toddie and his friends I wasn't really surprised; I swear I think boys are hardwired for stupidity about half the time and they just can't help themselves. It's like biological or something.

Lucy and the rest of the women set up eating not too far off from where I was serving the men. It irritated me to have to keep an eye on both groups. I kept waiting for it to turn into a cat and dog fight but it never did. In fact as the cooks filed out they treated the women ... well not with respect exactly but they weren't anywhere near being disrespectful.

I handed Shelly the last of the cake as she'd instructed me to give the others theirs first and asked, "What gives?"

"About what?"

"How come those men acted ... I dunno ... different to you?"

I heard Josie said, "You ain't earned no respect yet girlie. We have."

I took a deep breath and let it out and basically ignored her while still talking to Sherry. "That's not what I mean ... I mean they acted ... different. Are they ... uh ... civilians? Like me?"

Sherry nonchalantly leaned back against the tree and crossed her ankles. "They aren't civilians and technically neither are you. Most cooks are contractors ... noncombatants. Some in other units are active duty but our unit primarily uses contractors which sets you apart from the ranks of civilians you'll run into. It doesn't give you any extra authority but it does give a little clout."

Slowly I said, "OK so it is kind of a military thing. So what is the rank thing? My dad was a cop so I understand rank ... but how does it ... I guess I'm asking how does it apply here. I've got a job. I'm a contractor. Where does that stick me on the food chain?"

"On the bottom of my shoe grunt," Josie answered which caused Gayle to snicker right along with her.

Shelly gave them a look and they both tapered to a last snort. She turned to me and asked, "Why do you want to know?"

"So I don't get in trouble or cause trouble. No one has explained how things work to me, they've only hinted around about it. And Sgt. Shadwell said that there are lots of rules here that there weren't back where I come from. I don't want any headaches and I don't want to do stuff that gets people in my business. If I know up front I don't have to make so many mistakes ... if I don't make so many mistakes people have no reason to feel like they have to get in my face and correct me."

Lucy glanced at me and said, "Well, if you can stay out of trouble it is more than our last couple of cooks ..." She stopped when she caught Shelly giving her a scowl.

She turned back to me and said, "I guess that's a fair enough answer. Sgt. Shadwell is actually Master Sergeant Shadwell. If you get any correspondence from her you'll see her rank written MSGT rather than jsut SGT."

"But we just call her Sergeant?"

"Pretty much unless there are some people around that impose protocol, like high ranking officers. That hasn't happened in a while though. Most of those people stay in their walled compounds."

I asked, "What are you?"

"Sgt. Shelly Dreyfuss."

"A plain sergeant or a flavored one like MSgt. Shadwell?"

Out of nowhere Josie jumped up and tried to push me backwards. She almost had me ... almost ... but Moses had made us practice ways of getting away from puss brains all the time and I'd had to use them to get away from a couple of the men. Plus I had the element of surprise. Josie thought I was a limp noodle but I am in a lot better shape than most people think. Dad used to say I was as wiry as a monkey. Moses used to complain that I was so small it was like trying to grab a rat. Same difference I guess. I turned in Josie's grip and swept her feet from under her and then went backwards and came up with my bat.

Gayle and Josie both started for me but Lucy grabbed Gayle and Shelly ... Sgt. Dreyfuss ... grabbed Josie and basically pinned her to a tree. She growled at them, "Will you two stop being a couple of hormonal blockheads? She was just asking questions. I don't want to have to do anymore cooking. You got that?"

[Note: she didn't call them blockheads but it's embarrassing to write down all the words I've been hearing lately. Definitely not cool. Since this is my notebook I'll record it the way I see fit ... and without all the cuss words that would probably make even Mr. Svenson blush even with him being an old sailor.]

Josie and Gayle didn't like what they were hearing but Sgt. Shelly didn't seem to care and she turned her back on them and said to me, "You used up your only get out of jail free card. You do that again and I'll let them have you."

"Over what? She came at me. I'm asking about ranks so I don't get in this kind of ruckus. What's with the over sensitive act? I sure as heck don't outrank anyone around here. I'm having to pass some doggone stupid test just so I can go out and work my butt off feeding your unit and taking your carp."

Lucy said, "We're a tight unit. You were being disrespectful to Shelly."

"How?"

"Asking what flavor she is."

"Huh? I just meant is she a sergeant sergeant or a fancy title sergeant. I mean why the heck has she let me call her by her first name if this rank stuff is so important?"

Sgt. Shelly shook her head. "It's a wonder you aren't dead."

"Yeah I've come close. Puss brains are like that. And so are perverts and freaks and all the other carp that I've had to deal with for the last two years. But no biggie ... just beat the carp out of me and carry on. It's not like you people in uniform are supposed to be different or anything."

Lucy shook her head and said, "It's not like that."

"Sure, you can say that. They stick up for you. Me? Half of you want to beat my brains out like I'm an infected so excuse me if I don't agree. No wonder this group can't keep a number five if you're like this. I ..."

There was a scream and gun shots and the argument of the moment was forgotten.


	120. Chapter 120

Part 120 ****

Sgt. Shelly opened her mouth to say something when the radio that Josie carried crackled to life. "Container Nine has prematurely evacuated. I repeat Container Nine has prematurely evacuated. Execute plan Epsilon. Report to stations. Repeat, report to stations. Execute plan epsilon."

Carp.

I asked, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

Something had changed in all four women. Whatever their personal issues are when called to duty they turn into real fighting machines.

"Yes," Sgt. Shelly said succinctly. "Luce, boost her up in that tree."

"Thanks but I don't need a boost, just remember if you start shooting don't shoot up." I took a running leap and scurried up the tree. There were no leaves so it wasn't like I was hiding but I was able to get high enough off the ground that I felt safe and it gave me a great vantage and one look was all it took.

"Sergeant Shelly ..."

"Just Shelly pipsqueak."

I hate that name. They've shortened it to Pip like its cute or something.

"I know it is dark and all," I said. "But isn't there supposed to be more lights over by the chow line? There's like a big blank spot there now."

"Dammit. Give me a report of what else you see. Do it quick."

"I can still see the big tent where the supplies are and I think there is a bunch of people in uniforms ringed around it. And ... yeah ... it looks like there is some kind of bucket brigade line of people moving stuff from the tent to a couple of gray trailer trucks. There's also a fire of some type ... you should be smelling it pretty soon if you can't yet ... on the far perimeter, near where we walked in from the train depot. Other than that it just looks like a lot of people running around trying to figure out where they belong ... and oh yeah ... it looks like they've started taking people out of the tent with the Red Cross symbol on it but I can't tell where they are going."

As soon as I had finished she told me, "Stay in the tree. You don't have a uniform yet so could catch some friendly fire." Turning she said, "Time to go to work ladies." I watched them until they disappeared into the dark with Sgt. Shelly taking point.

The story books always make things so exciting for the heroine even when she isn't part of the action. Wrong. It's boring ... and in this case it was boring and cold. Boring wasn't bad but being cold was total carp. I'd taken my jacket off around the fire and now I regretted it. I was giving serious thought to climbing down and getting it when people started running into the clearing. It was Chris and a redheaded girl followed by some of the livelier puss brains I've seen recently.

I gave a sharp whistle and skinnied down to the lowest limb. "Yo! This way."

Chris spotted me and pulled the girl after him. If they had had one more minute, even half a one, they both would have made it up. Chris had just boosted the girl so that she could grab on and was half way up the trunk when one of the puss brains grabbed his leg. He wasn't going to make it without help so I got around the girl and jumped down and started swinging.

Crack! Crack! CRACK! Crack!

Chris slid down beside me and started using a camp chair to push them away. "Stay out of my swing radius!" I yelled at him.

"Gun? Gun? Gun?"

"Stop gobbling. I've got one in my right pocket. Duck under, reach in and grab it but for pity sake don't shoot me."

Chris turned out to be a better shot than me and was able to put the attacking puss brains down with one well-placed shot each time while I took them out in my more personal way. As soon as the last one went down we were scrambling up the tree.

As the girl started fussing over both of us enough to make me uncomfortable Chris dug into my pocket again and was reloading the magazine. "This isn't standard issue."

"Whatever. It belonged to a friend. He died. So ... just whatever."

"Yeah. I got one of those whatevers that belonged to our brother. Dorrie here took it apart to clean it last night only didn't finish putting it together." He shot her a dirty look and she looked contrite.

Dorrie was older than me but not by much but she was one of those whispy, airy fairy girls that guys at school used to go all protective and junk over. "Hi," she muttered. "I'm Dorrie."

I nodded. "You're Chris' sister, the one that works in supply."

She nodded and then tensed as we watched another small group of puss brains come through but ignore us in favor of tipping the cart over in the test kitchen two down from where I had been. I sighed. "They prefer it on the hoof but they'll take food anyway they can get it." I looked at Chris. "You up for this?"

He sighed and said, "Yeah."

To Dorrie's muted protests Chris and I slid back down the tree once again and then on the count of three we ran over, dealt consequences, and then ran back to the tree and climbed up. We were both breathing hard.

I asked, "Are we going to get in trouble for this?"

"You mean because we're ... "

"Yeah, because we are killing the infecteds."

He shook his head. "No. They changed the rules when it started to warm up and the infecteds started escaping containment. Patrols can't hunt them down and get bounties for them like some towns are paying mercs to do but if they are a direct threat - and running loose in a camp is considered a direct threat - then we've been instructed to do what we have to to restore containment up to and including lethal actions."

It didn't make me happy and it sounded strange the way he explained it but I was relieved to find out that I wasn't going to get court-martialed or whatever they do to contractors on what was sorta my first day on the job.


	121. Chapter 121

Part 121 ****

Those two groups of puss brains were the only ones that came through that area of the camp. That isn't to say that single ones didn't come through. Chris and I covered each other while we took turns doing what we had to do to keep them from escaping off into the woods and terrorizing and chomping on other people or from destroying supplies either from eating them or contaminating them.

After climbing the tree for the leventy-dozenth time Chris said, "This job sucks bigfoot's dirty drawers."

"Christopher Randall Peterson, what would Mother say?!"

I knew that tone and tried to stay out of it. Chris didn't appreciate being reprimanded. "Oh shut up Dorrie. Mom isn't here. And neither is Robbie. There's just you, me, and Dad and he isn't around much anymore either."

Dorrie teared up and said, "That's not nice Chris. Dad doesn't like to be gone so much but he needs to run supplies to in-country posts."

"Wrong. He can't stand to be around either one of us too much or he starts thinking about Mom and then he starts drinking. I can live with it if he'd just be honest about it. He isn't the only one that looks at us and sees Mom. I look at us and see Mom's hair. Robbie could too. But at least he made sure we had a gun to protect us. Dad just leaves and doesn't even ..."

"Chris!"

Family drama. Ugh. Now I know why Dad hated domestic calls more than anything else. They were so messy and dangerous and draining.

I just closed my ears to their quietly fierce discussion, one I was pretty sure they'd already had more than once, and kept an eye out for trouble. A couple of minutes later, hearing movement but being unable to see it, I told them both, "Hush. Listen."

Chris almost immediately heard what I'd heard and cursed which caused Dorrie to chuck him in the ribs with her elbow. He made a practiced evasion and moved out of her reach then whispered to me, "Scabs," he said as people dressed to blend in with the surrounding woods slowly crept into the clearing. "They're like thieving coyotes. They hang around and will steal you blind if you leave anything where they can get at it. They follow the camps and hang around settlements until they get run off ... but they always come back. They must have come through where the fence isn't finished."

"So they aren't puss brains?"

"You mean infecteds? No. But they are bad in their own way. If they can't get what they want one way they'll do it another. And they fight dirty."

"They sound like looters."

"That's pretty much what they are. Except sometimes they'll start a riot just so that they can loot if you know what I mean."

"Like a flashmob kind of thing."

"Uh ... yeah ... yeah I think so. Kinda. I gotta try and stop them. They'll take all the gear and food."

"OK. You got a plan?"

"Not you," he said dead serious. "You're a noncombatant ... a cook."

"You weren't saying that when ... oh carp ... come on. They'll get away."

Back down the tree and before I could make sure he actually had brains under all that red hair he shouts out, "Stop! You're under arrest!"

Doh!

The one I pegged as the leader almost dropped what he was carrying and ran but then he saw us and smirked. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here. A little rooster that thinks he's king of the barnyard." Then before I expected it the Scab pulled a gun and goes to shoot but Chris gets him first and dang if he isn't really fast and good. Every guy that pulls his gun Chris shoots. If the guy doesn't pull his gun Chris doesn't shoot him. Then some chick comes out of the dark and stabs a knife into Chris' arm and he goes down and she growls ... I mean really growls like a dog or something ... and comes at me.

I hate fighting. Just leave me alone, ignore me, or whatever. I always feel like a fool getting into a brawl. Jerry and some of the other men used to cause fights with the girls just so they could see the fur fly. It was humiliating. I will avoid fighting if I can even at the cost of some pride. And I really haven't had to brawl since I left the city but in some ways I am in better shape than I was there. So I was holding my own but I wasn't winning. Then the girl gets over confident 'cause I am on the bottom and she is so much bigger; but I wiggle and wedge my boot in her stomach and flip her up, over, and off me.

I'm up and on my knees preparing for her to barrel back into me when this leg with this big boot attached to it comes out of the dark and catches the girl so hard in the side that she goes flying. The night lights up with spot lights and people are all around shouting, "On the ground! Hands where I can see them! On the ground! I said on the ground!"

I duck and almost out of instinct raise my hands in the air when I see the booted foot belonged to MSgt. Shadwell and that there are men and women all around us hunting down the scabs and covering the corpses of the puss brains and dealing with everything so professionally that I realized this wasn't the first time they'd had to do something like that.

I wheeze, "Chris ... this guy ... is stabbed ..."

MSgt. Shadwell grabs me by the scruff and hauls me up like I'm a kitten or puppy and sets me on my feet. "Stay put," she orders.

I do but I can still look around and I do, looking for Chris. I find him in the dark just in time to see Gayle jerk the knife out of his arm and apply direct pressure while telling him there is a medic on the way and that if he hurls on her boots he will be cleaning them up. Only the way she says it doesn't match the words she uses and I realize that maybe, just maybe, Gayle isn't the awful person I was beginning to think she was. I've met too many people that are double natured like that ... Doc, Moses, Sherry ... even Jace to some extent. Sometimes you can work with the double nature someone has and sometimes you can't. Seeing Gayle with Chris made me think maybe there was something to work with.

Lucy was using some kind of plastic thing to hog tie a scab and saw me. She said, "Gayle ... two o'clock."

Uh oh.


	122. Chapter 122

Part 122 ****

"Carp! I told you I could take care of it myself! Give me back my shirt!"

"Hold still and stop wiggling. You act like no one has ever seen you without clothes before."

I swear if I had had my bat right then ...

"I don't exactly make a habit of it. All you doctors are alike. You just like to embarrass people and point out their shortcomings."

She stopped poking all the bruises and checking my ribs and stood up and looked at me. I mean really looked at me. Looked at me until I couldn't look back. "OK Pip ... let's get one thing straight. We watch each other's backs. No one ... and I mean no one ... gets to touch or even see any of us unless the person being touched or looked at is willing." She sighed and after a brief hesitation said, "Josie ... Josie got used pretty bad when she was little, before she was adopted. She ... she can be a little rough around the edges and you making friends with those boys so fast ... I think she thought you'd had the problems she'd had and then when you didn't act ... well, when you started acting differently than expected ..."

"You mean just because I was talking to a couple of boys my age you all thought I was some kind of hoochie momma or something."

She looked at me for two seconds then snorted. "No. Definitely not a ... uh ... hoochie momma ... but maybe a something."

My feelings are not hurt. They're not. But I was ... well ... offended. Yeah, that's what. I was offended.

"Well for your information I'm not like a something ... or anything else either ... it's gross and nasty. I wish people would just stop talking about it! Just because I learned to deal and live with perverts and freaks to survive doesn't mean that I am one or that I want to be one! It seems like only two types of people have survived all this carp going on. Really nice ones or really carpy one. Go ahead and think what you want, your opinion doesn't mean ... doesn't mean jack to me. Got it?"

She snorted. "You're too short to pull that attitude you have off. I'll relay the info. Give Josie some breathing room and she'll come around."

"Give her breathing room?! She's the one that's been all up in my face. I don't even get why. I don't go around using my carpy life experiences as an excuse to chew on people like a puss brain. I'd be happy if they'd all leave me alone. I'll do the job I signed up for ... but I didn't sign up to be babysat or make a bunch of friends either."

"Then why're you hanging around them boys. Even had that redhead back after hours." Josie had come in behind me and I tried to jerk my shirt up and on by she yanked it out of my hand. "Where'd all them marks come from?" she demanded. "You into pain?"

"Huh?"

Josie looked at me and shook her head. "Something wrong with you girl. You sure you're sixteen? You don't look it."

Growling and getting tired of having to explain myself to complete strangers I snapped, "I ... was ... a ... preemie ... ok? Is that a crime? Something happened and I was like a failure to thrive in the womb baby. I was sick for a long time and I just never caught up. But I finally got boobs and all of the other stuff ... I'm just kinda skinny right now. They'll come back." Even I heard the stupid desperation in my voice when I muttered, "They have to. I refuse to look like a boy for the rest of my life."

It was Lucy's turn to walk in and embarrass me by saying, "Being flat chested isn't so bad. Look at me. Saves trying to find bras. And no back aches. Shelly has back aches all ..."

"Shut up Luce." Sgt. Shelly had arrived to complete my humiliation. "She ok?"

"I'm like right here. You don't need to talk over me like I can't hear you."

Ignoring me with a grin Gayle said, "She's about to explain where all the scars she has come from."

I groaned at the inevitability of it. "Look. I'm only going to say this once and then we are completely done sharing. Got it? I was just fourteen. Mom and I had gone into the city to get my first grown up party dress. Then ..." I gave them a brief explanation of my life. I finished by saying, "Life is just carpy. I take care of myself now. Sometimes I do a good job and sometimes not so good. Sometimes things happen that aren't my fault either way. End of story. No more questions. Now give me my shirt!"

I grabbed it from the extended hand that held it and put it on and finished getting redressed.

I was tucking everything back in when MSgt. Shadwell stuck her head in and asked, "She in one piece?"

"Yes!" I said before the others could answer. "You got anything you need me to do?"

Lucy draped her arm over me and said, "We're gonna have to teach you not to volunteer. You see the trouble it has already got you into."

All the touchy feely stuff was turning my stomach. I looked desperately around for an escape route and MSgt. Shadwell saw it and said, "I need to clarify some of the timeline Pvt. Peterson gave me."


	123. Chapter 123

Part 123 ****

A shadow fell across me and a voice asked, "Did you get in trouble?"

It had been a long night for everyone and we were all running short of sleep. People were making an effort not to be cranky but tempers were close to the surface so since I didn't have any duties assigned to me after I helped finish cleaning up the clearing where the cooking test was held I found a hole to crawl into. I had just finished a power nap while I waited to see if I passed when Chris showed up.

"You're as out of it as I feel," Chris said. "I asked if you got in trouble. MSgt. Shadwell and Sgt. Dreyfuss are tough from what I've seen and heard and they carted you off pretty fast."

I shrugged. "Not trouble, trouble as in they treated me like I did something wrong."

He slowly and carefully sat down on the crates I had been leaning against, obviously favoring his arm. "What'd ya mean?"

Trying not to ask why he cared I told him, "Not what you would call trouble. More trouble like they are ... I don't know ... trying to be ... well ... not friends exactly because I don't think it is supposed to be like that but like they are going to take care of me. To me that's trouble."

He looked at me and then asked, "Did you get dropped on your head or something? With the way things are people need friends ... people that will cover your back."

"Depends on how you look at it. I used to think belonging to a group was a good thing but ... but I don't know. I guess it still is but all the rest that goes with it ..." I shook my head. "It gets too complicated."

He was quiet for a while. "Yeah, I guess. But sometimes you have to deal with complicated. If you ... you know ... don't deal with things they kinda can drive you crazy. Take Dorrie for example."

"That's your family business and none of mine." There was a certain amount of "foxhole comraderie" with Chris but I think mostly he is just the kind of person that is easy to talk to even if you don't like or don't agree with what he is saying ... or don't want to hear it.

He nodded and said, "Sure but it's a good example so I'm gonna use it. Dorrie doesn't want to deal with our Mom being gone and Dad ... well he might as well be gone all the time and when he is around he starts drinking. Waste of good pay if you ask me. Between Dorrie and Dad ... they ain't dealing with complicated too well at all and it makes things harder than they need to be. Look, just keep it simple. No one says you gotta get married to have a friend you know."

I looked at him and asked, "Did someone set this up?"

"Huh?"

But I had seen the slightly guilty look. "OK, who was it and how much did they pay you?"

He shook his head. "You're the most suspicious girl I've ever met."

"I'm no fool and let's leave it at that. So who was it?"

"If you gotta know it was Limmer."

Never having heard the name I asked, "Who the heck is Limmer?"

"One of the guys you were cooking for yesterday. He's a cook in the unit I am in and is a friend of my dad's. Not a bad guy but he has a real case about women and girls being on the front line. He doesn't like it. A lot of those guys in your test group don't. That's why they were so hard on you, trying to get you to run off."

Irritated I got in a dig of my own. "Those pussycats? If they think they were being bad then they don't know much."

Chris grinned and said, "I'll be sure and tell them that." Then he dropped the smile and said, "Don't hold it against him ... or them other guys. It's their job to make sure that the noncombatants are tough enough to survive ... and mostly to not get underfoot of the active duty personnel. I told them that wasn't going to be a problem after seeing you in action last night but ...," he shrugged. "It's kinda hard to describe so that guys will believe. You're like tiny and then you do something like wade right in to a bunch of infecteds with only a bat and no riot gear on. It's kinda weird to be honest."

I sighed. "Probably ... at least that's the way other people have looked at me. In the city though people considered me the weakest link. You want rough? Try living with that for a year."

"Would you go back?"

"To the city?" I asked. "No way. I ... I kinda miss some of what I had there but it was already changing and falling apart when I escaped. And everything that I thought I had after that has fallen apart too. I just don't think it is too smart to get hung up on people anymore. Maybe other people can do it and not get burnt but I've never been that lucky. It is better for me to do things my way. But I won't stop other people from doing it theirs."

He nodded. "Good enough I suppose. Though it might be easier to let people act friendly and not worry about it too much. You don't have to get in bed with them but you don't need to push 'em off so hard either. It makes people uncomfortable. Not that many people that really want to be nice these days. Those that are ... well ... you don't want to be the one to kill that off do you?"

I rolled my eyes and shrugged but I got the message.

"So anyway, here."

He handed me a folded sheet of paper. "What's this?" I asked holding it by the corner.

"It isn't a letter bomb Pip," he laughed. And I cringed because apparently that lame nickname is getting around. "It's your assignment orders. Go take them to Sgt. Dreyfuss so she can sign off on 'em and then she'll probably send you to Supply to finish getting outfitted. Though Dorrie is already complaining that she can't find anything in your size."

"You mean I passed?"

He grinned a big freckle faced grin. "Yep. And don't be surprised if you don't start hearing people talking about Squirrel Pizza. You surprised even the old enlisted cooks with that one."


	124. Chapter 124

Part 124 ****

"Your waist is smaller than Chris' and I thought he was skinny and boney," Dorrie complained.

I sighed. It isn't like I haven't had the same problem my whole life. Nothing age appropriate ever fit right and Mom and I had gotten good at tailoring clothes so I could dress in something that didn't make me look like a stupid china doll all the time.

"Just give me whatever is close and I've got a sewing kit and I'll fix it the best I can."

"Oh no you won't. Sgt. Shepherd will have my head. You can fix your stuff when you are out in the field but at base he is the one that says how things go. And you have to present yourself for inspection every RNR so he can say what needs replacing and what doesn't."

A man's voice erupted from behind me making me jump. "Do I hear someone taking my name in vain?"

Dorrie stood up straight and said, "No sir. We just have a tough customer here."

I turned around and said, "I am not a tough ... whooooa ..." I just kept looking up and up and up. "How tall are you?"

Dorrie tried to elbow me but since I had already figured that as the main weapon in her arsenal I was prepared to move quickly, and did. Sgt. Shepherd growled, "Tall enough to step on you Shrimp. And I'm none too happy outfitting another gidget."

I looked at Dorrie and she whispered, "Girl midget."

I wanted to give him what for but something about the way he carried himself warned me off. My temper may have gotten worse as I've gotten older but I hope I've smartened up even more. "Well Sir, I don't want to cause any trouble. I can fix my own clothes."

"I don't care whether you can or can't. When you are in my supply depot you will do things my way. Got it?"

"Uh ... yes sir." The man was intimidating enough without needing to try. Adding the extra like he does is overkill in my opinion.

I just stood there and he looked at me but I didn't let it me cow me. "What are you staring at girl?" he snapped.

"You remind me of the man that was in charge of the group that took me in right after Z-Day."

"Don't look to me to do you any favors."

I almost smiled. Almost. "Moses didn't exactly do it to be nice. He was a felon and figured there was strength in numbers. The more people that were on his team and could fight the better chance all of us had of surviving."

He barked a laugh. "You telling me you can fight? You're nothing but a squirt."

I shrugged and decided to let him think whatever he wanted to. But Dorrie suprised me by saying, "She can fight. I watched her and Chris and Chris didn't have to cover for her at all."

Sgt. Shepherd looked at me hard but less jokingly, then slowly nodded like he'd smelled something rotten. "Not my problem one way or the other. Get over here and stand on this stool. I'm not going to break my back bending over to measure you."

Talking to this man was one thing but the idea of being touched by him was something else. All of a sudden the tent flap opened and there stood Josie. She looked at me and asked, "Not through yet?"

I was caught between a rock and a hard place but Josie just leaned back on the counter and gave me a nod. Unwelcome relief wound its way into my stomach and it made me feel just irritated enough that I squared my shoulder and stood up on the stool and was ready to spit in the big man's face if he touched me any more than was necessary.

Sgt. Shepherd looked at Josie then shook his head and turned to me and professionally measured me with a piece of twine that had knots in it that had been colored with permanent markers of different shades.

"Damn gidgets," the big man muttered. Then he bellowed off a string of numbers and a guy came slipping and sliding at a run through the flaps at the back of the tent and I saw a storage truck standing open.

The guy set a stack of clothing on the counter and then looked at my feet and asked, "What size boots?"

"Four and a half or five," I said through gritted teeth. "I can wear a five and a half if they are narrows."

He chewed the inside of his cheek then looked at Sgt. Shepherd. "The suttlers?"

The man didn't look happy but he nodded. "They started coming in early this morning. Give her scrip and get her out of here." He turned on his heel and stormed out.

I looked briefly at Dorrie who refused to meet my eyes and then at Josie who was holding back a grin. I shook my head. I hate it when things fly over it.

The guy scribbled something down on first one piece of paper and then on another. He pinned one of the notes to the stack of uniforms and then handed the other one to Josie. "You know the drill. Make sure she doesn't fall in a crack some place and get lost."

Josie did snort a laugh at that but said, "Come on Pip, time to see the seamstress. Knowing Carol she'll be waiting to see who burnt Shepherd's tail feathers bad enough to make him bellow so loud."

I followed her and she didn't make me run to keep up. "OK, what did I do this time?"

Josie shook her head and answered, "Nothing. Some men just can't deal with women being on the front line. It turns their guts to water. Shepherd's problem is he has a daughter a little younger than you that he guards like a jealous dog. I think he is afraid she is going to get talked into joining up when she turns sixteen."

I gave it some thought. "My dad would have been the same way. If he was alive I would have been happy to do whatever he wanted me to do."

"Hmmm. Your parents were good to you?"

"Yeah. The best."

"My adoptive parents were too. They took a lot of grief for adopting me. From white people because I'm half black and from black people cause I'm half white."

"That's stupid."

She grinned and nodded. "Yep. And my parents didn't care. I was ten when they came to the island to get me. They had come to get a baby but Momma saw me and decided she didn't want anyone else. Dad was so mad at the way I had been treated at the orphanage that he almost got thrown in jail. The missionaries gave me to them just to shut them up I think. I couldn't read or anything so they homeschooled me until I caught up with other kids my age."

Without thinking about it I admitted. "I was homeschooled until fourth grade then to get me some occupational therapy they had to put me in school." She looked at me and I explained. "People thought that just because I was a micropreemie that I was going to have learning problems and all that stuff. They found out soon enough that I was just physically delayed not mentally. The only thing that really bothers me is my eyes. I hate wearing glasses but my eyes are the wrong shape for contacts."

"Better be glad you have glasses. People that only wore contacts have had a hard time finding glasses in their prescription."

I've never thought about it that way. Amazing.

I found the men and women in the tent used for alterations different from the supply depot. The woman Carol was a small Asian woman that was an inch shorter than I was. She laughed at Josie's description of my run in with Sgt. Shepherd and told me to come back in the morning after roll call and she'd have all of my clothing ... including regulation underclothes and socks.

"Speaking of socks we need to get over to the sutlers to find Pip some boots."


	125. Chapter 125

Part 125 ****

"Boots? You take her Moe's. He'll fix her up," the petite Asian woman practically ordered.

Josie asked, "Moe is here?"

Carol bobbed her head in a yes as she walked away. "He come by this morning to let us know. You take her to Moe's," she said basically dismissing us so she could get to work.

Josie jerked her head in a "let's go" motion so I followed her in a direction I had not gone yet. Curious I asked, "Who's this Moe?"

"Looks like a pirate ... eye patch and everything. Even has a stuffed parrot in a cage. Guy is supremely crazy but it's where most of the women go."

"Why?" I asked thinking if the guy was crazy that's the last place I would want to shop.

"Because he doesn't put up with jack crap. Before winter set in and most of the suttlers closed up shop for the season there was this girl ... she is in another unit now that has since been transferred down south so you won't meet her ... anyway she got the holy living crap beat out of her by a couple of guys in her unit. Guys said she started it, had been after them, liked it rough, same old crap guys always say. Of course she said different, that they started it and so on. Her unit commander at the time was a complete ass and wouldn't do anything about it and it just kept getting worse. The guys in that unit kept getting bolder and started following her everywhere and giving her a hard time ... giving just about all women they ran into a hard time. Even got to the point that MSgt. Shadwell had to say something to the other commander which of course he blew off. One day a couple of the jerks involved in the original attack followed this chick into Moe's place and started feeling her up and then got rough ... pinching, lifting her shirt, really harassing her. Moe told them to get out. They told him to **** off, that she wanted it no matter what she was saying, that they could tell by the way she acted. Moe told them to leave again. They took a swing at him ... and the medics had to carry them out on stretchers and then come back and collect a few pieces they had forgotten. The incident came to the Area Commander's attention and there was an inquiry and a few heads rolled and now every woman at base takes all her business to Moe's when she can."

I shrugged. "Ok ... Moe is one of the good guys."

"Hell no. Moe doesn't just look like a pirate, he probably was one. The last thing ol' Moe is is a good guy."

"That makes no sense."

Josie shrugged. "If you got any sense you'll understand after you meet him."

I followed her to an area that reminded me of a maze. Tents and wagons of all shapes, sizes, and conditions were set up in roped off "streets" that had names like Dry Goods Alley or Hardware Alley. Every time I tried to stop and look at something Josie would rush me along.

I complained, "I'm just looking."

"Look on your own time. I gotta get back so that Gayle can go restock our med supplies."

"I didn't ask to be babysat," I growled.

"Nope but you got it anyway until we're sure everybody knows that your ours."

"Your what?"

Josie chuckled. "Just ours. We've got a rep to protect Pip and we're damn tired of doing our own cooking. Let's leave it at that."

"Oh fine. I still don't need to be babysat. I'm sixteen for goodness sake."

Josie being Josie completely ignored me and then pointed to a tent. "C'mon. I'm gonna get you settled, make sure that Moe won't steal you blind and then leave you to your looking."

We walked over to a tent that wasn't the rattiest one on the strip but was far from the best looking. Hanging on a pole right outside the canopy was a really nasty looking stuffed parrot that had definitely seen better days and some fake vines with even faker plastic hibiscus flowers stuck into the greenery.

The tent was empty when we entered it so Josie called out, "Yo Moe! You around you gnarly old pirate?!"

I was looking around trying to figure out what I was supposed to be buying because there wasn't anything on the tables when a man walked in and said, "Ain't open for business ye ... er ... uh ... holy ****."

I swallowed and turned and if my life had been a cartoon my jaw would have hit the dirt. The man bellowed, "****! Woman, get in here! I think I've gone blind in my other eye!"


	126. Chapter 126

Part 126 ****

A woman ran in and said, "What? What happened?!"

Moe just kept looking at me and pointing. My mouth was completely dry. The woman turned sharply with her hand on the head of a baby to keep from giving it whiplash from where she was carrying in a sling across her front. She squinted at me evilly for about two seconds and then I saw her knees give as recognition set in.

I don't know, habit or something, made me run forward and catch her and we wound up nose to nose which was strange because I knew for a fact that she was tall and willowy ... or had been.

No one said anything until I squeaked out a very weak, "Oh carp."

That broke the shock. "Moe" started laughing and then whacked me so hard across the back that I nearly lost my breath.

Josie said, "Hey!"

I turned to look at her and said, "Uh ... that's just kinda Mose ... uh ... Moe's way of saying hi."

Then the woman grabbed me in a strangle hold and both me and the baby squeaked in protest. "Sherry, ease off ... I can't breathe and I think you're like suffocating your kid or something."

She let go but was having some kind weird reaction and was laughing and hiccuping at the same time and saying, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God."

I looked at Josie who was just standing there assessing. I said, "Uh ... I guess you can tell I kinda know them."

"Hmm," was all she said.

I looked at Moses and wasn't sure what to say so I said the first thing that came out. "Where'd you get the eye patch."

"That bastard Jerry."

"Well ... in case you didn't know he got chomped trying to escape from the city. It was the kind of nibble that gave him the slow infection. Last I saw of him he was running back into the city looking pretty freaked out."

A sneering smile of satisfaction crossed his face and he said, "Couldn't happen to a better man."

No one was saying much after that and I was getting tired of being stared at so I turned to look at Josie again and said, "Uh ... what do I do with that paper thing. I don't know how it works."

She looked at Moe and held up a piece of paper. "Scrip. The girl needs boots."

Moe snorted and said, "DeeDee doesn't have feet. She's got toothpicks with toes."

I hunched my shoulders in disgust but didn't say anything. Moses may have shortened his name but he hadn't shortened his stature in my eyes. When he said, "That's no good here. She's our kid. We'll put boots on her feet."

Josie stiffened and looked at me. I shook my head and said, "No. These aren't my parents. I told you all that I got taken in by a group of people right after Z-Day ... well these two were the leaders of the group."

Sherry shook her head. "Moe was the leader. I just got lucky."

When she looked at him with that goofy worshipping face she had always given him I sighed. But when Moses stared back at her the same way I almost laughed. Almost. I looked at both of them and scratched my head confused. Moses caught me looking and growled, "Watcha looking at?"

I shrugged. "Dunno. It's just ... kinda ... well ... ew."

Sherry sighed, "Oh DeeDee."

Moses snorted. "Brat."

Sherry looked at Josie and said, "We'll take her if she isn't enlisted yet."

"Well I am," I said to everyone. "OK, maybe not enlisted but I'm a contractor and I'm gonna be a cook ... am a cook. I've got a job and everything. I don't need babysitters. I can take care of myself."

Moses barked, "Hah! If you can that'll be a change. Honest to God we thought you were dead or infected that day. Get over here Brat and tell me what happened and how you got out of the city."

I heard the "right now" in his voice and well ... a year has passed but he's still who he is and I'm still who I am and it is partly due to Moses teaching me how to survive and keeping the perverts off of me so I did as he ordered. A few sentences in Josie interrupted and said, "This is all real interesting but don't you forget ..."

I nodded. "I know, I know ... I need to report back or you all will send someone looking to make sure I haven't gotten into trouble."

Josie nodded and added, "And you don't want us having to pound on anyone now do you?"

"I said all right already. I'll stay out of trouble. Geez. Go do your stuff. I don't need my hand held. I'm six ..."

"Teen. You've said that plenty. Now prove you are and stay out of trouble."

She left but only after she gave Moses and Sherry a good stare down. I said to them, "Ignore her. I don't know why but I think the patrol that I'm going to be cooking for has some idea that I'm like their pet or something."

Moses growled, "I know that one and the ones she patrols with. You ain't going to be slipping their leash to hunt up junk food that's for sure."

"I never did! Well, just that one ... ok, couple of times. And it isn't like I didn't tell someone what I was doing."

Moses snorted and said, "You could wind Doc around your little finger. Fat lot of good he did looking after you."

"He didn't look after me ... not the way I think you're thinking. I never ... uh ..."

Sherry patted my arm. "It's all right. The drunk bastard may have been the best of a bad lot but I'm glad you escaped that life. Now finish telling your story."

I shrugged. Doc is a conundrum in my memory. I liked him and despised him at the same time. It's just now that he is dead I'm trying to dump the garbage and keep the good. I told them what had happened, how I had put Doc out of his misery - that drew an approving rumble from Moses - how I had crossed the bridge and seen Jerry and the others but was only for sure what had happened to Jerry and then all that I have done since that day. "I always wondered what had happened. I kinda figured you got knocked up Sherry because of the puking and that you and Moses were thinking about leaving but ... I ... uh ..."

Sherry sat nursing the baby - it sounded like a pig the way it was grunting - while Moses set up their tent. She looked at me sadly. "We did try to look for you DeeDee but things were really bad. I don't think you saw everything. Jerry tried to use the puss brains to get rid of Moses and when that didn't work he stabbed him a couple of times. All I could do was drag him into a stairwell and down a couple of flights of stairs to find someplace to hole up. He was bleeding so bad I couldn't leave him. Things were crazy. I went out and looked in the building a couple of times - found what was left of a couple of the group but there wasn't enough to identify. I ... I ..."

"Don't cry Sherry. I lived. You lived. It's all good. I'm sorry Moses lost his eye though." I looked at him and asked, "Does it hurt?"

"Naw. Ruined my aim though so my idea of being a hired gun had to get changed. It was a ***** to get out of the city but we finally did and we headed to my brother's place in Florida hoping to hole up there over the winter. Change of plans. Met up with him just in time to follow him and what was left of his gang out here but Sherry was having the baby and they moved on so I hired on as security for this place. The guy was an idiot and picked a fight with a knife artist when I wasn't around. It would have been stupid to just walk away from this when I got a wife and kid so now I'm Moe the shoe salesman."

I laughed. "Moe? Still not getting that one."

Sherry burped the kid only the noise came out of its other end. Moses barked a laugh and said, "That's my Dawnie. You tell her."

I was confused until I saw the look on Sherry's face and then I just about keeled over even though I was already sitting on the ground. "You ... you named it ... uh ..."

"She's a baby, not an it Silly." Sherry told me. "And yes, we named her Dawn."

"Please say you don't plan on giving her some awful nickname like I'm stuck with."

She chuckled. "No. Just Dawn."

Moses said proudly, "She was nice and big from the get go, like her ol' man. No puny kids for us."

Sherry didn't look as enthusiastic about it as Moses but she still smiled. Then she turned to me and said, "Now I want to know the truth, did you sign up because you wanted to or did you get forced into it."

I shrugged. "I had options but signing up seemed like the best of them." Carefully I added, "Still does."

She looked sad for a moment but then smiled. "Sure. I can see that. But you have to promise that when we wind up in the same place you have to stop by."

Moses growled, "She better."

I gave them both everything I had and asked, "Think you could stop me from it?" Moses laughed his big booming laugh and laughed even louder when he saw how pleased that Sherry was.

I did eventually get some boots. I never knew it but Moses' father actually was a shoe salesman and his grandfather worked in a shoe repair shop that he'd inherited from his grandfather. "Damned if I haven't wound up doing exactly what I tried to escape from as a kid. I hated shining shoes for all those rich dudes downtown."

"But here you are getting rich off of shoes," I answered back after watching him do a brisk trade in everything foot related including socks and heel repairs and laces.

"Yeah. Guess that's what you call irony. Though we ain't getting rich, we do make a decent living," he said proudly. Then he shook his head and added, "But I could make more money as a merc."

Sherry warned, "And you could also get deader faster."

"Shut up woman. Think I'm gonna take a chance and leave you and Dawnie with no security?"

She said, "I'm not worried about security. I just don't want to lose you."

Oh gag. Sorry but it is a bit too much for me to watch high romance between a felon and an ex-call girl. Too much like one of those bodice ripper books that have all sorts of stuff in there I didn't need or want to know about but was too bored over the winter to put down.

Moses fit me with a real nice pair of moccasins that had tire treads for soles. They laced up over my calf and when he was through making adjustments they fit better than almost any pair of shoes I've ever had. I was bent over admiring them when Moses said, "Leave your other ones here. I'll do what I can to fix 'em and then you'll have a second pair in case these get wet."

"Uh ... you know you don't have to do ..."

Moses looked at me and gave me a growled-warning so I shut up fast. I'd forgotten just how fast Moses could lay into you if you didn't do what he said. Sherry smiled like she approved and then Moses went off to dicker with the next customer.

"Sherry really ... I mean I don't know exactly what scrip is but don't you think you should take it?"

"No. Moe said no and that's all there is to it and I don't want to hear another word about it." Sherry could be as bad as Moses so I shut up.

"Hey, what is with Moses changing his name to Moe and I hear everyone calling you Sher instead of Sherry."

She shrugged and rocked Dawnie's cradle with her foot while she cut boot laces from leather circles. "We decided we were dropping our old lives and starting new ones so we dropped some of our name. Symbolic you know? His grandfather was called Moe so for him it just fit. He got a bad fever after that bastard Jerry stabbed him and half the time only had the energy to say half my name so I just went with it. You'll run into a lot of people out here who have changed their names to start over. You could too if you really want to dump that name you have."

I gave it two seconds of thought and said, "I suppose but ... it kinda connects me back to my parents. If I change my name to change who I am ... I don't know ... it ... it just doesn't seem respectful to my parents."

She nodded. "I figured you say something like that." She looked at me and was about to say something when there was a commotion at the tent flap and my whole flaming patrol walks in.

I stood up and put my hands on my hips and said, "Aw c'mon. What's the big deal? It's not curfew yet."

Sgt. Shelly laughed and said, "God, now I know why my father was always complaining about my attitude when I was your age. I'm not here for you Pip ... I'm here to trade with Moe. Go back to jabbering."

I muttered, "I don't jabber."

Sherry smiled and stood up. She told me, "Watch the baby."

As soon as she stopped rocking the baby started making this awful noise and Sherry - gotta remember to start calling her Sher - ordered me to "just pick her up before she brings the tent down."

Now I've babysat my fair share of kids but it had been a long time but I suppose holding a baby is like riding a bicycle. You remember after you give it another try, all you just need to do is try not to fall off ... or in this case drop the baby on its head.

Dawnie decided I made a good chew toy and slobbered all over me much to my disgust and Sher's amusement when she came back and found me wiping baby spit off of all of my exposed surfaces. "She's teething."

I answered, "I never would have guessed." I had little indents to go with the baby spit.

Moe and Sher and my patrol were all talking and getting along fine when this really nasty looking bunch walked in. I could tell there was an immediate change in everyone's stance and it hacked me off to be the only one to not know what was about to happen yet again.


	127. Chapter 127

Part 127 ****

"I don't do business with scabs," Moe rumbled in warning.

OK, that told me what or who they were but I had a feeling it wasn't shoes they were after. How did I know? They were looking at me like they were a feral pack and I was an unclaimed bone.

Completely ignoring Moe several of them pulled knives and rushed me. What the heck?! Only one made it through after my patrol and Moe started busting heads but one was enough. I got the sudden feeling that the others had actually been a distraction and that the guy coming at me had planned it so that it was just me and him. Too bad for him that he'd waited too long. I'd spent too much time in the city surviving and too much time alone surviving. Even amongst friends you have to be prepared for things to change lightning fast. Strutting in and stopping to make a physical statement had given me time to set and prep myself for whatever was coming.

He pulled a knife and I parried with my bat. His arm was longer than mine and he was taller but that's not always the advantage that people think it is. His primary advantage was he was a long, thin rail that seemed to have some flexibility so that he could dodge. But he was also overconfident and attacking with very little thinking behind his jabs and swings. He also fought with only one hand. I'd learned to be ambidextrous despite being a natural lefty.

If he'd been a real knife artist I would have been in trouble but this guy fought like every opponent was a nail and he was a hammer. It might work on your average person but it didn't work with me. Sherry would have kicked my behind if it had. She was the one that taught me how to defend myself against the box cutters that the other girls and women carried ... especially against those that wanted to mess up your looks but not kill you. This guy was out for murder but he thought he was going to have some fun first and I decided that he most definitely was not.

"You killed my baby sister," he growled.

I asked, "Was your sister a puss brain?"

He screamed in rage and really came at me hard but I dodged. I was aware that mine wasn't the only fight going on so knew not to count on any help. "Geez, are you damaged or what?!"

"You disrespect her memory on top of killing her?! I'll make you pay!"

"So if I'm gonna pay mind telling me ..."

I heard a crash and a baby cry. How could I forgotten there was a baby?! I was so over it all; I didn't care why this guy was after me but I was done. I went from defense to offense and came in with a low, hard swing on top of his right knee cap ... the leg he seemed to lead with every time. There was a loud pop and he went down screaming. I turned and jumped over a table and Moe and I got to the guy that was coming at Sher and Dawnie at almost the same time. Moe took him high, I took him low, and if he hadn't been connected at the waist he would have gone flying in two pieces in two different directions.

Moe took up a stance in front of them ready to take on anyone else and I turned just in time to fend off another attack from Wonder Bread boy. That's what was on his t-shirt ... an old Wonder Bread logo ... though it was filthy and faded. It was also torn and I saw that he wasn't just skinny but really nasty skinny - emaciated even - with the edge of his rib cage showing. I think I could have been compassionate and just let it go - I think I could have - if he hadn't kept coming and coming and coming at me.

"Will you stop being stupid?!" I shouted at him. "One, I don't know jack about your sister and two, you're gonna get hurt!"

Breathing heavily he shouted, "Don't lie!"

And that was the last thing he said because Sgt. Shelly pistol whipped him so hard he dropped like a rock. Then the MPs arrived and if I thought things were messy before they were suddenly a lot worse as they waded in kicking and using riot clubs on anyone that didn't stop fighting and back way the moment they came through the flap.

"Quiet!" The bellow of the lead MP was so loud and commanding that with that one word it sounded like the whole base went silent. "That's better. Now, who is senior rank here?"

"That'd be me Rickerson," Sgt. Shelly answered.

"Oh. You again," he sighed like he suddenly felt a migraine coming on.

Sgt. Shelly chuckled darkly but said, "Hate to disappoint but not our fault." She pointed to the floor and said, "Scabs."

The MP looked at the now subdued crowd of about ten and said, "You bunch were making noise after discipline hour this morning."

One of the girls spit in my direction and she said, "That little ***** killed Matt's sister."

"I didn't kill anyone," I snapped. "I don't know what they are talking about. They just came in here and started breaking up the place."

Lucy came over and said, "That chick that tried to knife you was a three-striker. She got put in the tank with the bad girls and then got in a fight she couldn't win. Skull got cracked open before the guards could separate everyone and break up the tussle."

It wasn't a nice story but I'm not going to feel sorry for someone who makes a habit of acting crazy and stupid. "So what has that got to do with me?"

She shrugged. "Brother has to blame someone and you are the closest he could get to."

Angry at the injustice I snapped, "How about he blame himself for dragging his sister into a crappy life? Or setting a bad example? Or whatever? Her choices are not my fault, all I was doing was defending myself. Was I supposed to stand there and let her gut me with that pig sticker she had? Not this side of the Pearlies I can guarantee that."

I saw Moe get a wicked gleam in his eye and come stand on my other side. He asked the MPs, "You bunch suddenly taking the word of Scabs over your own now?"

The MP looked at him but didn't say anything. He turned to the men with him and jerked his head indicating they were to take the scabs away, to drag them off in the case of the unconscious ones. Without another word he followed them.

I started to pick up the stuff that had been knocked over. "Why didn't they ask for a report?"

Gayle answered, "The scabs are all two-strikers. Doesn't matter what they did, if they don't get themselves killed in the tank they'll be heading for a work camp as soon as the prison rail car has room for them."

Josie added, "More n' like they already know about last night and have put two and two together to come up with whatever it takes to haul that bunch off."

Sher sat rocking Dawnie and feeding her to calm her down. She said, "That bunch is well known. There used to be more of them but the winter halved their number."

"Yeah, they looked bad off."

Moe asked me, "You feelin' sorry for 'em?"

"Heck no," I griped. "Just stating a fact. I've been bad off too but I've never turned into a scab or whatever you want to call them. Not even in the city did we steal from other groups like they were doing."

"No we didn't," Moe said with some pride. "And I better not hear of you feeling sorry for them either. That girl what fought with you got what was coming to her and so will that bunch of ***wipes."


	128. Chapter 128

Part 128 ****

"You gonna miss your friends?" Lucy asked me.

I shrugged trying to show her that I wasn't interested in her personal questions but she had that expectant look like she could wait me out until I answered. Finally I gave her another shrug and said, "It was nice to find out they are alive and stuff. I was just glad to find out that they didn't just leave me in the city on purpose."

"But?"

I looked at her. Sometimes Lucy's issues really show up and sometimes she is like better than most normal people because she sees into things and people, not just looks at them. I sighed because I could see she wasn't going to drop it even though I had a lot of packing to do so we could get out first thing in the morning. I just gave in to the inevitable and answered, "But ... I'm not the same kid I was when I was with them. I needed them when I was in the city ... I was only fourteen and basically stupid-helpless. Then I didn't have them and had to learn to make it completely on my own. I learned a lot in the time I was with them, I had to, but too much time has passed. I can't go back and be that needy kid again. Sherry ... er ... Sher I mean ... we talked it out. She understands and to be honest she is relieved. She and Moe make a good living for them but another mouth is another mouth and she's already preggers again. They're happy and junk about it but I think that even though they'd take me in they're relieved they don't have to."

"And you're relieved you don't have to go back to being bossed around."

I looked at her and realized she was going somewhere with our conversation. I shook my head. "You know, it's just better if you go ahead and spit it out. It's not like I'm going to totally freak or something. Just say what you need to say."

She continued going through her gear but did as I asked, "OK. Here's the deal. You can get away with your mouth and stuff here at base but when we are out in the field Shelly is in command. You can't mouth off to her and you gotta just do what she says even if you don't understand or don't agree. You may not be active duty personnel but we are and we have to operate a certain way."

"OK."

She stopped and looked at me. "That was too easy."

I snorted and kept doing what I was doing. "What? You expected me to throw a hissy fit like a baby?" She just kept looking at me so, with a sigh, I explained. "Look, I thought about all of this stuff before I signed up. MSgt. Shadwell made sure I understood how patrols work. I'll be alone a lot of the time but when you guys are around I am answerable to you all, especially Sgt. Shelly whose job it is to make sure everything runs the right way so that we can all survive and not get hurt any more than necessary. If you all were a bunch of jerks and really stupid maybe I would squeak more but you're not. You go out of your way with your babysitting act - which I have got to tell you is totally annoying - but you aren't doing it to be mean but because you don't know how well I can take care of myself. This first trip out will be my chance to prove you don't need to hold my hand all the time but don't worry, I'm not totally stupid so I'm not going to put us in danger by acting all tough and carp like that. My job is to cook and protect our supplies. I can do that ... whatever else you do is your job and I'm keeping my nose out of it as much as I can."

Sgt. Shelly casually stepped into my line of sight ... I'd known she was there which is why I said things the way I did. She gave me a long, considering look ... the kind Dad used to use when he was interrogating Toddie when he wasn't sure if he would tow the line or not. "You sure you're ready for this Pip? Fieldwork is just that ... work. And it can be boring one second and dangerous the next. We have to be able to depend on one another and that includes you. A soldier travels on their stomach. If we don't eat, or we don't eat well enough, we aren't going to be able to give one hundred percent and in a dangerous situation that could cause injury or even death ... not just to us but anyone that we are responsible for protecting. You may be a noncombatant, but your position is still essential to the patrol. If you cannot shoulder the responsibility I need to know now."

I stood up and looked her square in the eye. "I'm a cook and a good one. I'm resourceful. I've been listening to Moe and some of the other suttlers and I think I have a handle on what kind of things I'm going to run into ... shortages, that sort of thing. I won't know for sure how things are going to work out until I've had some of what MSgt. Shadwell called field experience in a group setting. I know I can take care of myself, now I just have to learn how to take care of you guys."

Sgt. Shelly gave me the squinty eye trying to figure out whether I was making a joke or not. She decided I was and I decided it wouldn't be what you call prudent to inform her it wasn't. I'm not too worried about it ... at least the cooking part. I just don't know if I can put up with them. It has been a long time since I've had to share space with anyone, especially four other females that seemed to refuse to see me as anything other than just another person they need to take care of.

The four women finally gave me some space by going off to some kind of meeting after which they'd get their own personal supplies refilled. I needed the space because I was getting uber frustrated. I do not like the way they package the food supplies.

The freeze-dried fruits and veggies are in number ten cans. It doesn't matter how much they give you of each, they are all in the same size cans. For instance, in the food I get for this time out I've got a supply of both blueberries and corn. I opened the blueberries because they were so lightweight and the can wasn't even half full. Out of curiosity I opened the corn and found out that can wasn't full either.

What I have to store things in is also a trip and not what I would call your average military vehicle. In fact it isn't a vehicle at all but a hot dog cart. I'm not kidding. The stainless-steel area looks just like the hot dog and ice cream carts that would show up at the park in good weather. It is on two wheels but then things get even funnier looking. There is like part of a bike attached so that as you use the pedals you are pushing the stainless-steel part. Then attached to the back of the bike is another trailer that hauls the none-food items.

I've made a few practice runs and to say that it is awkward doesn't even begin to cover it. Going uphill is gonna kill me. Trying to keep the whole thing from running away as I go downhill might kill me twice over. Going off road ... well, you get the picture, but it is what all of the cooks use. No wonder there are no fat cooks. I'm going to need to eat a lot just to be able to ride this stupid looking thing and keep it going.

So between the poor food storage set up and the poor transportation contraption DeeDee is a cranky girl. I'll live - it is better than being chomped by a puss brain - but I have got to come up with a better way to do things. This is just nuts.


	129. Chapter 129

Part 129 ****

Oh my aching back. Oh my aching ears. Oh my busted backside ... gee whiz, so not kidding about that last one for sure.

I like people. At least I think I do. I know I used to like people anyway. Lately I've had some second thoughts about it but I guess they aren't really so bad. But geez, I think I'm beginning to understand why people would tell me to shut up all the time.

"Don't you ever stop talking DeeDee?"  
"DeeDee, I swear if I hear you ask why one more time ..."  
"Will you just shut up DeeDee? You're making my head ache."

Mom and Dad never said it like that but even they got fed up with it sometimes and would give me the eye as if to tell me I was getting on their last nerve. If I talked half as much as what I had to listen to yesterday and the day before ... holy smokes, it is a wonder someone just didn't shove something in my mouth to find a little peace and quiet. I know Toddie threatened to duct tape me to the wall a few times so I couldn't follow him around and talk his ears off ... he did it once too when I was little but Dad just about grounded him for life for that one.

Maybe I've changed more than I thought. Maybe it hasn't just been the usual growing up stuff that I've done. Maybe it hasn't just been my body. Maybe I've changed a lot more than that ... the deep down "me" part has changed. Maybe it isn't just my body that Dad and Mom wouldn't recognize. Then again, maybe I haven't changed so much as everything around me has changed. Oh forget it. Carpy guacamole, thinking philosophical isn't going to do anything but make my head feel worse and that I definitely don't need. Have enough on my mind without adding to it.

Leaving base was like being in a much-practiced Chinese fire drill. On the one hand everything looked and felt chaotic. The good bye's, love you's, stay safe's, the sour faces, the resigned faces, the fresh faces both fearful and excited at the same time, the bodies and equipment packed together just begging for a little space to move and breathe. On the other hand it somehow worked like a well-oiled machine with everyone knowing their place and sticking to it. I followed Sgt. Shelly and the other women, doing my best to not knock into anyone while I pedaled the monstrosity I'm now responsible for, and we got to a transport where the supply bike was loaded so that it faced the rear of the truck. Four patrols went on one transport; four hot dog stands and twenty personnel. I was the first one loaded and I later understood that it was so all of the others were out of the way when I came off the ramp and so that I could watch how the disembarkation process went ... or at least how it was supposed to work.

Our unit and two others left base. Three units with five patrols in each unit, five people in each patrol. Since four patrols fit on one transport that meant there were five trucks per unit, times three units, equals fifteen transport trucks in the convoy. We actually had twenty trucks though; an extra for interim resupply, a communication trailer, a water truck, a fuel truck, and another which was a weird looking disaster relief tractor trailer that was going to act as headquarters for some kind of administrative slash hospital thingie that was supposed to create good will.

Normally only two units cycle out of base every week but things were being changed up and no one seemed particularly happy about it and that is what caused most of the noise I had to listen to. Josie in particular seemed to find fault with the entire thing.

"We've been working just fine for months. Had it down to clockwork. Now, right in the face of a mess of infecteds, they gotta change it up and make things more complicated. Do we need complicated? I don't think so."

Blah, blah, blah. Even Lucy looked like she was losing her happy-go-lucky disposition after a whole day of listening to it.

It might be late April but there is still a chill to the air that I don't care for; it is a different kind of cold than I'm used to, dryer so that it bites before you realize it. The air makes your skin feel like freeze dried corn in no time. I wasn't the only one turning up my collar and turning down the ear guards on my semi-regulation cap. It seems cooks are allowed to change their hats a little bit for food safety reasons. The one thing cooks aren't allowed to alter are these bogusly stupid hair nets we have to wear. I was ready to scream because mine kept getting tangled when Josie finally took pity on me and taught me how to take a long piece of cloth and wind my hair up the way Caribbean women do. It still feels really strange, but my hair is out of my eyes, safe from getting into the food, and I hope maybe it stays cleaner this way too since a shower isn't likely something to be had until RNR time. Peeee-uuuuuu. I don't know which is going to be worse, me or my laundry.

I got stuck being the only female cook. Naturally. My three male companions were just lovely and ducky. Their personalities were just rosy and glowing. And if you believe that there used to be a bridge in Brooklyn that I know I could sell to you.

I mean seriously, can Limmer get any crankier? All I did was ask him how he packed the supplies. I figured he'd been doing this like forever and was senior to the other two male cooks and that he'd be someone good to learn from. Yeah right.

"I'm gonna tell you right now before God and everybody ... you don't belong. You shouldn't be here. I don't want you near me. You're gonna get someone kilt."

Irritated I let fly with the first thing I could think of. "A kilt is something a Scottish guy wears."

Well, it made Josie and Lucy laugh. Gayle bit her lips and Sgt. Shelly just rolled her eyes but none of them got involved. I guess at some point I've got to be able to prove that I can hack it and that moment was the beginning of it.

"You a smart ass on top of everything else," Limmer snapped.

I shrugged. "Of course I am. I thought with you being a senior cook and all that I could learn something useful from you but if you're going to be stingy with your smarts then I guess not. On the other hand I heard you gotta earn respect in this outfit and calling me names isn't going to exactly earn you any from me. I'll just figure it out on my own. Thanks anyway."

He started cussing me but that kind of stupid is easy to ignore, especially when I set my mind to observing what I could about the other hot dog carts.


	130. Chapter 130

Part 130

Limmer finally got tired of me not paying any attention to his cursing and turned around and started fussing as someone else who had dared to ask him why he was cussing at "the new girl." You'd think that Limmer - or his type - would bother or disgust me. Truth is I think I've simply come to accept them. I learned to deal with men like him in the city. I mean I don't think he is a perv - he doesn't give off those kind of vibes - but the kind of guy that really and truly believes that females are a step or two lower than men on the evolutionary scale. At least I think that is what his problem is. I could be wrong but if I am he'll have to prove it. But I had better things to do with my time than worry about ol' Limmer.

I took a long look at the four hot dog cart set ups riding in the transport. Right off I noticed mine was all beat to carp in comparison to the other three. Limmer's was in the best shape and looked practically brand new. The other two had some patching and dings here and there but overall looked pretty decent. Mine looked like a pawn shop reject. The bike frame was bent, there were dents in the stainless-steel box that held the supplies, there was no sun shade even though there was a frame for one, and there was enough rust that you couldn't tell what the bike's original color had been. The attached wagon was smaller and the wheels of it looked like they might be thinking about falling off if I asked them to roll on anything but blacktop.

Construction wasn't the only difference however. The three men had painted things on theirs. It reminded me of the old WW2 pictures of military planes and some of the artwork was just as "risky" as those old pictures too. Limmer caught me looking and snorted in humor. One of the other cooks patted his cart, paying particular attention to the pornographic picture of a chesty woman that had been airbrushed onto the largest flat surface and gave me a wicked grim and asked, "What do you think about the beauty here?"

"I think you had that painted there because that's as close as you'll ever get to touching that particular piece of a woman's anatomy." Gayle had been in the middle of a sip from her canteen and wound up having to get a good back pounding because she started choking and wheezing in surprise. Josie left off her complaining long enough to really make a spectacle and embarrass the guy, and even some of the other men in the transport got in on the laugh. Sgt. Shelly poked me with her boot and gave me "the look." She couldn't do it as well as Mom or Sarge but she was well on her way to cultivating that eyebrow thing, so I left off and decided to think silently instead of out loud.

Out of necessity my memory has gotten pretty good. I went over the inventory of what was in my cart and compared it to some of the things I saw peeking out from under the tarps of the other three wagons and sure enough I realized something else; I hadn't just been given the short end when it comes to equipment, I'd been shorted in the area of supplies too. It was either that or I got the barrel scrapings after everyone else got to pick over the best stuff. I saw cans of dried soup mixes and the like and if I saw that I'm pretty sure they got really good canned stuff too. The one area I think I've got the others beat though is in the spices, seasonings, and extract department. And I'm not positive, but pretty sure, that I might have them beat in another area.

Sher warned me how slim the pickings could be. "DeeDee, it can be just as bad as it was in the city. What you need to do is cultivate some connections."

"Connections for what?"

"The way it works is that you can trade with locals so long as they are willing and don't feel pressured. The men all go in for tobacco and meat and things like that but I was telling Moe last fall that they are missing an opportunity to learn from the locals."

I'd heard her go on about this before. Sher is a little bit of a strange contradiction. If she hadn't gotten so far along the path she'd been down I could see her setting up her own organic and all-natural this and that kind of business. She taught me that a lot of weeds are edible and it got us through some lean times in the city. I took what I learned from her and built on that by listening to Jace and Mr. Svenson and his family. And now Sher is telling me I can use the same skills and make my job as cook somewhat easier by one, trading with locals and two, foraging on my own. I've already seen she is right and for some reason I kinda feel like Mom is giving me the ok as well. She was pretty good at talking people up and finding good deals. I hope she passed some of that along to me ... just wish I had her people skills. I always seem to rub people the wrong way ... or at least I rub the wrong people the wrong way.

That night we stopped on one side of a river crossing and it just so happened that a civilian trader convoy decided to set up beside us as the scabs were pretty fierce. Everyone got fed by a "box lunch" kind of set up and I was actually grateful not to have to cook with everyone all jumbled together like we were. I finished my sandwich and then tucked the rest of the odds and ends that I'd been given into my inside pockets and then asked Lucy if it was all right if I went to look at what the traders had for sell, if anything.

"Sure. Just be back before it is bed down time so no one has to come find you."

I wandered over in the direction of the traders' convoy and just sort of hung around looking. It was almost dark when one of their guards finally asked, "What da ya want Shrimp?"

I shrugged. "I learn by watching. I'm a patrol cook," I told him throwing a thumb in the general direction of our camp. "And a friend of mine that is a sutler told me if I wanted to know what's what to pay attention to the locals. Well, I'm trying to pay attention but I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to be paying attention to."

The man snorted. "Cook huh? I swear they must be getting desperate if they'd take on someone like you." Then after he chuckled at his own wit he said, "If it's a cook you be then you'll want to see Marty."

He directed me towards a bunch of noise that when I got over there I realized it came from people scrubbing pots and pans. I asked one of the women there, "The guard with the big handlebar mustache said I could come over here and watch Marty."

"Watcha want to watch Marty for?"

"I'm a new cook and ..." I finished my explanation and she smiled and winked at something behind me. I turned slowly to find a man looking at me like I was a bug under his microscope.

I swallowed and asked, "Are you Marty?"

"That's what they call me. What's the name of this friend of yours?"

"Sher. She and her man Moe work in shoes and such."

He made an interested face and said, "Yep, know them myself. Not bad people. So Sher told you to watch the locals did she?"

"Yes sir," I told him figuring it never hurt to be polite to strangers. "I have to cook and feed my patrol. I'm not worried about the cooking part so much as I am about the food part. I'm expected to make everything go as far as it can but that stuff is all dry or canned ... they didn't really give me anything fresh." I decided to leave out the part about the tin of cookies and crackers since it didn't seem worth mentioning. "I can forage if I know what is edible and what isn't but I'm not from around here. I overwintered in the North Woods of Wisconsin so I can identify a few things like cattails and the like but I was wondering what else was around here that people use that I don't have to cultivate."

"Well you're a lucky one, just so happens I was about to take an inventory before we crossed the ribber. Come on along and if you'll tote and move some things for me I'll see if I cain't enlighten ya some."


	131. Chapter 131

Page 131 ****

I followed Mr. Marty over to a farm truck and he said, "Hop up there and hand me down a crate."

He hadn't said which crate to hand him so I handed him the first one I came to. It had in it what looked like duck pond weeds. "Is this one ok?"

He nodded. "Good one to start with. This here is arrowhead. Look at the green parts and you can see why. It ain't the green tops you want though, but the root, what is called a tuber by those of us in the know."

I bit my lip to not grin at how silly he sounded but when I glanced at him I saw he was smiling broadly and I realized that this man would be easy to like despite being a little scary at the same time. I looked at the "tuber" and said, "It looks like a potato sort of."

"Exactly and you treat it like a potato too. You can roast it, fry it, dice it, hash it, mash it, boil it, put it in soups ... anything you can do to a potato you can do to this little baby here. And it is pretty easy to harvest. You can either use a rake or a hoe and just loosen them from the mud and muck at the end of a pond or slow moving creek or river. If the weather is warm enough I'll send the kids into the water and let 'em wiggle their feet in the mud and the roots just float to the surface. They get a kick out of it and it keeps them out of everyone's hair. The plants grow in clumps so it shouldn't be too hard to get what you need from one location for just a patrol size. Now hand all them crates of arrowhead down while I get some of these useless boys to cart 'em over to the trailer so they can be secured."

After handing down all of the arrowheads I nearly tripped over a couple of crates of cattails. I handed them down next and Mr. Marty and I talked a bit about what I knew and traded recipes.

He said, "Cattails is a staple where there is standing water. People in the cities still ain't caught on to its use but trust me when I say folks out here get more than a little possessive of their plots so you gotta make sure no one is claiming ownership. Other problem near the cities is water contamination from run off and sech. Now you ain't dumb so you'll know you'll need to check the water things are growing in out here now too. And be real careful if you go onto one of the reservations, different tribes hold different beliefs on ownership of stuff ... particularly ownership of the land and what it produces."

"I didn't think we were supposed to go onto the reservations, at least that is what my sergeant told me."

"Not supposed to is right, but that don't mean it doesn't happen ... on accident and on purpose. Sometimes the military gets invited in if a tribe is having a bad problem with something but for the most part reservations are a no-go, even for a lot of trader convoys. People get set ideas in their head and there just isn't any communicating with them after a certain point. Now what's next?"

I pulled up a crate so I could see inside and said, "Hey! I know this stuff too. It's burdock. Mom grew it in her edible landscaping!"

"Well ain't you excited," the big man laughed. "Yep that is burdock only your ma probably grew domesticated burdock, this here is wild burdock. You can usually find it in rocky areas; it takes a strong root like this to make its way through that kind of soil. What's good about the burdock is that it will grow on land that hardly anything else will and that all parts of the plant are edible ... root, young greens, and even the flower stalk if you can get it before the varmints do. What other plants do you know?"

"Chickweed, Lamb's Quarter, dandelions, milkweed, ramps, ..."

He chuckled, "Ok, ok, Girly. Sounds like you've got some down. Now let me tell you about some you might not know about."

We talked about things called yampa, Oregon grape, pinon pine, salsify, miner's lettuce, and several others. He had me take a leaf from each plant he had in stock and told me to press them flat and then label them somehow so I'd have a "field guide" to the plants that were I could use without killing anyone. I thought that was such a good idea that after saying good bye I did exactly that using this notebook as the squasher part to get them flat and keep them safe.

Lucy saw me and asked what I was doing. I explained it to her and she said, "Sounds about like what I did right after I got my head banged up."

I looked at her but didn't say anything. She'd never spoken of her injury and I didn't want to upset her. She smiled, "Relax. I guess I understand how you feel about the others always looking over your shoulder because they did it to me for a long time. I know I'm not like I used to be but I can't ... can't quite explain what the difference is. I just know it's there."

Carefully I asked her since none of the others were around to hear, "Does it hurt your feelings? Being different?"

"Did at first," she admitted. "But to be honest there's been some good things come from it. For one I'm not so angry as I used to be. I remember that I was angry all the time ... and I worried about stuff. I'm not sad about not being that person anymore. What bothers me most is sometimes not being able to remember what things are called. I got me a notebook about like the one you are always scratching in. Shelly drew pictures in it and then labeled them and it's how I re-learned a lot of the stuff I forgot. It took me a while but I'm a good soldier again ... but I think I might just be a better person than I was before my brain got put in a blender. You know? It isn't like that for everyone but for me I think it is."

I shrugged. "I didn't know you before so I can't say but I think the you that you are now is a real good person to know."

I'm glad I said it because it seemed to make her happy and she flipped me in the head with her cap and then got all mommish and said, "You should hit the sack while you have the chance. Today was easy compared to tomorrow. Terrain is going to turn rough mid-morning and the units are going to split and start off-loading. We are one of the last and it is in an area no one has covered before so we are going to have to really be on our toes."


	132. Chapter 132

Part 132 ****

Lucy wasn't kidding that the next day was to get worse. The complaining wasn't as loud but somehow it was more noticeable because of this. And rough doesn't do justice to the condition of the roads we were on. The only happy thought I had was when they off-loaded Limmer, and his patrol, right smack dab in the middle of a crap ton of pot holes. You should have heard his ... er ... colorful description of the landscape. I pulled my cap down to try and hide my laughter.

Before I forget I need to add one more thing to the hot dog cart descriptions. I had an old granny seat on mine that had more duct tape than vinyl on it. The other three had these fancy new seats ... only even as a person my age and size could have told them, those little things were going to get buried in their backside if they had to ride on them very far. Like a lot of stuff lately, it reminded me of a memory from before.

Toddie gave up the idea of begging our parents for a racing bike after one of his friends got one and they discovered that most of those bicycles must have only had seats for show because there is no way a sane person could use one of those things for long ... especially guys and I absolutely refuse to explain why because when I was finally old enough to figure it out I couda died of embarrassment and I'm not too far off from that right now just thinking about it in passing. Anyway ... I'm glad I didn't do anything to try and get revenge on the other three cooks because I have a feeling God is going to use those little seats and do it for me.

Second guy that off-loaded did it while the truck was in motion. That is actually what we were supposed to do but only if the roads were in good condition which was why Limmer got off as a stop. The number two show-off got his just desserts for his arrogance when he flipped the cart and all of the patrol supplies when spilling all over the place. The hot dog cart lost a lot of its shiney-new right off the truck and the convoy didn't stop ... it took over a minute to get far enough away so that I stopped hearing that patrols cussing and fussing.

Third guy was really weighted down but almost disembarked without a problem ... except he was a little too careful and went a little too slow. The transport operator started raising the rear gate before the guy was completely off of it and a couple of boxes from his wagon fell back into the truck. I saw him trying to run back and pick up things that had fallen off and I whistled - thank you Mr. Svenson for teaching me how - and football threw one of the boxes to him and he caught it but looked at me like I had lost my mind. I started to toss out the other one when both Sgt. Shelly and Josie stopped me.

"Hey!" I yelped, complaining at the handling.

"Hey nothing," Sgt. Shelly barked. "You think they would have done the same for us?"

I shrugged and replied, "Does it matter? I was just trying to do what was right."

Gayle shook her head while Sgt. Shelly rolled her eyes. Even Lucy looked at me like I was a couple of fries short of a happy meal. Josie said, "You know, that's sweet Pip." Only her tone said the opposite. Then she tapped me harder than was strictly necessary on the back of my head. "Now listen up. Sometimes the angels do a little a$$ kicking on our behalf and we get a bonus like this. You don't look a gift horse - or angel - in the mouth. Now get this box stowed quickly before it is our turn to disembark. The convoy is take a sharp turn to the east and we are going to continue head northwest and they ain't gonna cut you no slack just 'cause you're a newbie."

I almost saluted and said "yes ma'am" but figured that would be more smart aleck comeback than my fellow patrol members could handle so I just let it go. Besides she was right, and I did need to get set to go because it was coming up fast.

Oh ... my ... gosh. Worse than riding the Himalayan at the fair. I puked on Toddie's shoes the time he forced me to ride it because Dad said if he didn't take me he couldn't go. I think they thought he would stick to rides like the Scrambler or the funhouses. Nope. And worse he fed me a birthday cake flavored shake right before just to see me turn green. He underestimated the effect and his new Converse trainers had to go to the dry cleaners. It was a year before I could look at a birthday cake again. Getting off the truck at that particular location was just about like that had been.

I was on the bike part and ready to go as the tailgate began to drop and that's when I realized we had been going uphill. Oh geez man. A 10% grade might not be a big deal to a truck but on a hot dog cart? Youch. Add the little wagon I was pulling and holy mackerel. Talk about a wild ride to get that contraption under control and not go into the deep gully that ran beside the road. But I did it.

"Well that's a surprise," Gayle said sardonically. "I shouldn't have bothered unpacking my med kit. I figured you'd need stitches at the very least."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

But it was't funny at all because Gayle had been serious. And no one gave me a high five either for a successful disembarkation which told me more than anything else could that play time was over. I am now officially a grown up and they don't give out brownie points for things like that when you're a grown up. You're just expected to do your job with no complaints and get it right the first time around.


	133. Chapter 133

Part 133 ****

Finding a base camp for the patrol to operate out of was ... er ... interesting. Like I said, the area had not been patrolled before but there were reports of "significant potential for infestation." That's a nice way of saying that there may or may not be a puss brain behind every tree, and if they weren't there they might be behind the rocks and bushes of which there were plenty where we wound up.

I feel like a complete idiot pedaling the hot dog cart. I stand out like a sore thumb and at the top of my list when I get someplace that hasn't been salvaged nearly to death is to find some metal paint in colors that don't scream come-and-chomp-on-me-cause-I'm-flavored-with-gourmet-stupid.

I'm glad I took Moe's advice and made sure that, even if my set up looked like carp, that it didn't sound like carp. From graphite to grease I fixed everything that could squeak. What I couldn't fix was the sound of wheels on the road we were on but I did my best to keep it to a minimum. I also didn't talk which seemed to be just fine with the rest of the patrol as they were on my four corners - I was surrounded - and were on high alert.

We went deep into our assigned area - finally leaving pavement and hitting dirt and gravel - and not finding any building abandoned or otherwise, we made camp near a bend of a slow moving creek. We got as far back from the damp as we could and then set up temporary camp in some large trees that were growing close together. Without a word the four women hung a tarp at an angle, hung mosquito netting from the edges of that, weighted the ends down so it couldn't blow in the wind, and then created a reasonably secure perimeter. Every time I tried to help I seemed to get in the way and interrupt their flow.

After I was nearly stepped on a couple of times Lucy said, "Just stand back. We've done this so many times that it is just easier for us to move at our pace. Eventually you'll catch on."

I supposed I was a little miffed but then again they were right, besides I had my own stuff to tend to. I got my tools and dug a small pit and took some dry kindling and got a fire going. Tomorrow I'm going to use some stones I took from the creek and line the bottom of the pit to keep the wood up off the ground. The water table is high in this area and the wood wants to soak up the damp and make the fire smokier than it needs to be; good for mosquito prevention, bad for the lungs.

After I had a nice cook fire I set a kettle of water to heat and went down to the creek to get more water to fill the gravity water filter bag up with. That's when I collected the stones but I also grinned at the other things I saw to collect. There is a good supply of both cattail and arrowhead along the banks. Since I had a moment I collected a pound of arrowhead tubers that I scrubbed quickly and then headed back to camp. I also scared up a couple of mid-sized fish. I caught them in the mesh bag I always keep on my belt; a left over habit from gathering in the North Woods. I don't want anyone to think I'm bragging and telling a fish story. To be honest I think the only reason I caught them is because they were more surprised than I was and were swimming so close together. I'm not sure what kind they were, I think a trout or something like that.

"Just coming to look for you," Lucy told me when I got back.

"Sorry. I was getting dinner. How does fish and chowder sound?" Four heads turned my way and I held up the mesh bag with the fish and tubers visible. "I don't lie," I told them with a scowl.

Lucy said, "Didn't say you did. Just surprised. Normally first day out is something easy like an MRE."

"Yuck. I've tasted those things." I shuddered. "They are better than starving to death but not by much."

That brought a chuckle and they went back to doing whatever it is they were doing and I started doing what I needed to do. First came the fish; cleaned, laid in a small pan with a few drops of precious "lemon juice" made from powdered flavoring and a quick sprinkle of paprika, then covered with a lid and set to bake. Quickly I finished everything else starting with peeling the already well-scrubbed arrowhead, quartering the tubers, and dumping them in a stock pot. To that I added one chopped onion, and some dried sweet red pepper ... something I traded for with the sutlers. I added a couple of squeeze packets of "butter" that was actually margarine and cooked all that until it was soft.

Mom used to say that margarine was as indestructible as roaches and plastic. She steered clear of it but like I said before, beggars can't be choosers and it was either margarine or open the bottle of olive oil I had and I wanted to wait until it was absolutely necessarily to crack into that. After the tubers, onions, and peppers were soft I added salt and pepper to season and then a quart of milk I made up from the powdered stuff. I also tossed in some basil from my stash of seasonings. While that was heating I stirred a tablespoon of my precious supply of flour (actually something called buckwheat flour) into a quarter cup of water and then slowly stirred that into the soupy mix to thicken it up. By the time the chowder was finished so was the fish and I turned to call the patrol to eat.

Only I didn't have to call them. I shook my head and told them as I ladled food into their mess kits, "If you drool anymore I'm going to have to add bibs to my supply requisition form next time."

Josie said, "Don't care. I'll wear whatever you want me to if you'll keep feeding us like queens." The others didn't say anything; they were too busy eating.

I put a scoop of chowder in my bowl to clean out the last of it and then took that pot away from the fire and put on the pot I had designated to boil water in.

Sgt. Shelly surprised me with a tap from her boot. When I turned to look she asked, "Where's your fish?"

I shrugged. "I only caught the two fish. Next time I'll look before I start gathering and I won't scare the rest off before I can get more." She gave me a "look" and I reminded her, "I'm about half the size of you and I never have eaten a lot. Plus I can graze when you all are off patrolling or whatever. There's dandelions, morels, and a few other things all within sight of camp here and I'm sure I can find more tomorrow while you all are off doing your patrolling thing. I'll get fat like that bear we saw earlier."

"That bear wasn't fat, she was actually scrawny ... looks like the two cubs are about to drink her dry. And don't get off subject. You may not patrol but you still need to eat."

"I'll eat ... am eating right now." I picked up my bowl and spoon to prove it. "You just can't expect me to need to eat as much as someone with as much muscle as you four. I swear you use up more calories in nervous energy just sitting still than I do in a whole day of hard labor."

Gayle said, "Bull. Now stop being an idiot and eat. Shelly has more important things to do than worry about you having an eating disorder."

"A what? Are you making fun of me being small?"

Lucy shook her head, "No. She means anorexia or bulletmia ... no that isn't right ... bull ... bull ..."

I relaxed. "Oh, you mean bulimia. That kind of eating thing. No, I just don't need as many calories because of my size. Plus, unless you want me gacking up everything all over the place you won't try and force me to eat too much in one sitting. My stomach isn't set up for huge meals."

Gayle asked, "Always been a problem or something just lately?"

"Always. I was a micropreemie," I reminded her then shrugged. "My stomach is just small like the rest of me and I just do better with grazing than I do with three squares a day. I'll cook three squares, I just may eat off cycle from the rest of you. So please just leave off. It isn't a problem and I've got it covered."

She looked at Sgt. Shelly and nodded and the rest of them backed off as well. However when the other three went for another small "recee" up and down the creek bank Gayle started on it again and I got irritated.

"Don't blow your cool Pip. I'm what passes for the medico in our patrol and I need to make sure I understand each person's situation. I've known the other three long enough that I can tell when they aren't feeling top notch without them having to say a word or show an obvious symptom. I need to be able to assess you as well and I'd like to be able to do it without having to constantly ask questions. So if you have any special needs I need to know about them."

I conceded the point. "You mean because I was a preemie?"

"Partly that and partly because it doesn't seem to have phased you much so I need to know how you cope."

I shrugged. "I just always have. I don't like puking so I eat smaller meals. I don't like passing out so I've learned to make the smaller meals count ... nutrition and stuff like that. My metabolism is about average so that isn't a problem." I pointed to my glasses. "These are about the only real bane of my existence - that and everyone always thinking I'm a little kid first just because of my size - that is leftover from the preemie stuff. I used to get really sick a lot and people kept trying to tell my parents that I just had to be autistic because of the way I started out but I learned to keep my feet dry and my head covered which keeps the colds to a minimum and you don't want to really hear about all the trouble I caused until they stopped telling me I couldn't ever be smart enough to do what I wanted to."

Gayle snorted. "I think I can imagine." Quietly she added, "Lucy is the same but ... but she does have limitations. Limitations are nothing to be ashamed of so long as you know what they are and address them. Her ability to read is almost completely gone. She's picked simple words back up here and there but she sees them more as pictures than as combinations of letters with individual sounds so if you need to leave her a message make it a pictograph." I nodded to let her know I understood what that is. "When she is really angry or frustrated she will stutter ... to the point that no one understands what she is trying to say. Her long silences usually indicate one or the other and you need to recognize it and not get bent out of shape if she doesn't talk to you. And she used to get migraines though those get fewer and fewer and she hasn't had one since you showed up. The headaches ..."

"She gets the trimbles in her left hand."

Gayle squinted at me suspiciously. "She told you?"

I nodded. "The other day before we left out on patrol. I noticed and she caught me noticing and then winced when some guy whistled. She looked like she was going to be sick and I offered to go get you but she said no and explained. I fixed her some feverfew tea and put a little ginger in it. It seemed to help or at least her hand stopped trembling and she started smiling like her old self after a little bit so I poured the rest of it into her canteen." I shrugged. "My mom got migraines about once a month too and that was her go-to remedy."

Gayle looked at me and then leaned back and reached into her pack and pulled out a small notebook and said, "Give me the recipe and tell me what you know."

So I did. No biggie. I also explained that Mom used to have hard and fast rules in our house about food and medicine and stuff. "Partly because of me being so bad sick when I was little and partly because she was that way to start with. I guess I don't think anything of it because that is the way I was raised but I learned I couldn't talk about that stuff to some of my friends' parents or teachers because they would start acting like Mom was from mars or some weird woman that might be abusing me. Even my best friend's mother - the wife of the Sheriff no less - used to get crossed eyed if the subject came up; and she and Mom were like really good friends." I smiled a little sadly thinking of Lee's mom. "She was like this nurse supervisor kind of thing at the hospital and while she agreed that some of the 'all natural' remedy type stuff might work that a lot of it was bunk and she didn't tolerate bunk of any kind. In her own way she was way stricter than my mom was and that's saying something."

"I'm middle of the road myself," Gayle admitted. "If you can explain to me why something works I'll take it under advisement but none of this by the light of the full moon $ #% or licking toads or anything like that."

The look on her face when she was talking about licking toads was so funny I decided not to tell her about some of the druggies I ran across in the city right after Z-Day and how they were so desperate for a fix that they'd do some really, really strange things. We were still talking about herbs and things like that when Gayle put up her hand to stop me.


	134. Chapter 134

Part 134 ****

When Gayle raised her hand to stop my talking I put my nose in the air and sniffed.

"Why do you do that? I've seen you ... you just ... it ..."

I shrugged because I could tell she was upset at being curious and having said something and trying not to laugh all at the same time. "I suppose I do look a little funny. Sher used to say the same thing." I shrugged again. "Look, you've never had to deal with being short in a tall person's world. That's my day-to-day. You can see over things. I have had to learn to 'see' things differently so I don't get caught by surprise. My nose just happens to be really, really good. And right now it is telling me that whoever that is, it isn't puss brains ... but ... I'm not sure it's the patrol either. Too many feet."

Gayle was immediately alert. She gave me a dirty look but more for pointing out what she had missed I think. Then there was a whistle and Lucy came out but she wasn't alone; there was another soldier with her, a male soldier.

"We got wounded. One critical ... a slow train ... and then three banged to hell and back. Possible targets heading our way."

Lucy took up a protective stance, as did the male soldier, and covered the two women and three men coming our way. There was a fourth - presumably the slow train - on a makeshift gurney being hauled by the two least wounded men.

"What's a slow train?" I asked.

"Code for someone that is infected but still functioning."

I reached for my bat and asked, "How long ago was he bitten?" No one answered until the man was set down in front of Gayle who took one look at him and triaged him. One of the men said, "We were attacked about a week and a half ago."

I looked at the guy and something didn't add up. The guy had been bitten on his neck but it hadn't been torn out like most puss brain bites in that location would have done to most people. He should have bled out immediately. I went to touch the bloody bandage and the guy knocked my hand away. I looked at him and he had resignation in his eyes but purpose too. Something was definitely amiss.

"Gayle?"

"I'm busy here."

"Gayle."

"Dammit ..." she turned to snarl but I didn't let her get any further.

"He's still lucid. After more than a week. From a bite near an artery."

She opened her mouth again and then slowly closed it. Looked at the other three men to make sure they weren't gonna die in the next few minutes and then came over by me. When she went to touch the bandage with her latex covered hands the guy tried to stop her. "You knock my hand one more time and I'll knock you upside your head."

A guttural whisper was all the guy could make. "Refuse to infect anyone else. Tell them to give me my gun. I'll ... I'll ..."

"You'll shut up and let me think and that is all you will do." She looked at the other four men and asked, "You sure it was over a week ago?"

The only uninjured guy was shaking with fatigue but answered for them all. "Yes ma'am. We were two days into a week-long patrol. We tried to get to the first recovery point but missed it. We've been trying to get to a secondary recovery point ever since but it has been slow going."

"And you're sure it was an infected that bit him?"

The guy looked at her like she was crazy and I could tell everyone was getting tense so being me I decided to put my foot in it too. "How bad did they smell?"

"Whu ... huh?"

"The smell."

"They had the worst BO I've ever smelled."

I asked, "BO? That's all you smelled?"

"Yeah. They obviously hadn't bathed in forever." I looked at the women but didn't feel like I could ask the question.

Sgt. Shelly had picked up on it though and asked casually, "How many tours you men seen? Been in deep have you?"

The man shook his head. "This is our first rotation out in the boonies. We were patrolling Salt Lake City up until a month ago and then they called us up for a remote tour to allow some other patrols to come in for urban duty for a while and heal up."

"Where's your sergeant?" she asked.

"He got taken out by the pack that did this ... the ones that've been following us."

I looked at the other women and I saw I wasn't the only one thinking something wasn't adding up. Sgt. Shelly looked at Lucy and Josie and they got up and took up position a little down the path from our camp.

Gayle looked at Sgt. Shelly then at me and said, "I need to hear what you're thinking. What is bothering you?"

I shrugged. "I've seen a lot of people get infected. I've seen some people that have fought the infection hard for as long as they could but usually after a couple of days they start showing signs. In all that time and all those people, I've never seen anyone last more than a week."

Gayle looked thoughtful. "No one?"

I shook my head. "No. Have you?"

She shook her head. "I usually don't have to deal with that kind of situation. Real medicos take it because out in the field ..." she shrugged. "It's usually a case of triage and do your best to forget."

I looked at the guy and sat down beside him. "Hey. What's your name?"

"Bedford," he whispered painfully.

I looked at the other men. "Is that his name?"

"Of course it is. Isn't that what he just said?"

I bit my lip then figured in for a penny, in for a pound. I looked back down at the guy and asked, "How bad you wanna live?"

"Not bad enough that it gets someone else killed."

"Well I can understand the sentiment but," and Gayle gave me a look and turned to the other men. "But I'm pretty sure that you're not infected."

He didn't want to believe me. Some people are like that. There was a lady that used to live down the street from us that had convinced herself that she had cancer. When three doctors told her she didn't she couldn't bring herself to believe them.

"Look, all I'm saying is just keep fighting, keep holding on ... just in case mind you." When he got a stubborn look on his face I added, "If you are infected I promise that I'll do for you fast and as painless as possible. I've put more than a few people out of their misery. I think it is just plain sick to let a buddy turn into a puss brain without easing their way to their Maker."

I could see in his eyes he was still fighting the notion of not being infected. "Look, like I said, I've seen a lot of people get infected ... too many. I've been around puss brains since Z Day with very little break in it. I know what the symptoms are. For one you'd be a whole lot closer to recovery at this point as the infection took over and knitted things back together. You'd also be eating everything in sight too but from the green gills you have as your buddy there munches on an energy bar I don't think hunger is exactly a problem for you right now." He started giving me a cautious hopeful look. "I'm not promising anything, but I am saying with all my experience you are way outside of the symptoms you should be having and the time you should have started to have them. Now mind your manners and rest or Gayle will turn really unpleasant. I haven't seen her at her worst and don't want to so don't cause problems. She's scary enough without added incentive."

A voice from behind me growled, "I heard that."

"I hope so. Just wanted to let you know how much I respect your ... er ... competence."

She growled again but I knew it was just for affect ... it certainly had one on the man she was patching up. He stopped wiggling and sat real still.

I pulled an emergency blanket over the critically injured man and then moved over to Sgt. Shelly. I knew what triage was. I hadn't known what to call it in the early days but I learned fast how necessary it was. Frankly the guy could still die even if he didn't turn into a puss brain. There could be a different kind of infection in his blood after going so long without real medical attention.

As quietly as I could I asked Sgt. Shelly, "Do I feed these guys?"

She nodded without drawing attention to our conversation. "You got the supplies?"

"I can stretch things if I can lay some snares and catch something. I can still feed the extra for two or three days without too much trouble. Might be best to start them on some soup though since I don't know what they've been eating."

One of the injured guys came over. "Sergeant ma'am? My name is Corporal Lewiston. I can answer that question."

"Go ahead Soldier. Report."

"Yes ma'am. Private Harris - he's the red head over there - has been knocking together a meal or two a day for us. He claims he was going to college at BYU before things fell apart but he's originally from some little backside of nowhere spot on the map. He grew up hunting and fishing in an area like this - so he's said - and ..."

He turned and suddenly made a pretty bad face while he grabbed his side. I looked closer and asked, "Ribs?"

He gasped and nodded. "Fell down a river bank trying to get down and get us some water. Caught up against a cedar stump. It's just bruising at this point."

"Don't tell Gayle you've diagnosed yourself," I told him with a grin after peeking at Sgt. Shelly to see if she was irritated at the interruption. "Just let her poke and prod you. It seems to keep her in a good mood."

He relaxed and seemed to be able to communicate with Sgt. Shelly a little better so I moved off and then down to where Lucy and Josie were. I asked, "Need your canteens refilled?"

"No, we're good. So you don't think the guy is infected?"

"Not unless it's something I've never seen before. He just doesn't have any symptoms."

"But they said he was bit by an infected."

"Well, since I haven't seen it I don't know if it is a bite. And two, we don't know for sure that if it is a bite that the person was infected."

Lucy shrugged and kept her eyes on our surroundings but Josie looked at me and asked, "You willing to stake your life on it?"

I shrugged. "I'll keep one eye open but it just doesn't fit. One thing though, have you seen any sign that they were being followed?"

Josie nodded but this time Lucy did speak. "I went back down their trail. I could see a column of smoke about two, maybe three, miles back ... hard to tell 'cause of the angle."

Thoughtfully I replied, "Well, I've never known infecteds to light fires." They both nodded and soon completely ignored me, concentrating instead on keeping watch. I didn't begrudge them. My nose may not have been tingling from the nasty odor of puss brains, but it smelled trouble nevertheless.


	135. Chapter 135

Part 135 ****

Do I look like a messenger boy? Well do I? Don't answer that. If it wasn't for this stupid out of control mop that I call hair people would probably be just as likely to think I was a boy as a girl. Lucy laughed once and said I looked like Little Orphan Annie when it was out of my braids. I nearly shaved my head that night after I figured out who that Annie character was. Better to be bald and nobbly headed than to be thought cute. Yuck! I've never wanted to be cute in my entire life. I definitely don't want to be cute now!

If I could wish for one thing and have it come true - besides having my family back - I'd wish to have my boobs come back. I mean I've got them ... sort of ... but I guess the weight loss and all the lifting and tugging have given me more muscle than fat in my girly places. I swear Toddie used to tease me crazy about being flat chested ... until I wasn't and then he got all stupid and would growl at all my friends and his too if I wasn't right where I was supposed to be when I was supposed to be there.

Dad said once that it was about time that Toddie started acting like a proper big brother. It took Mom explaining to me that Toddie had finally had his protective gene activated when he grew up enough to realize I was growing up. Why on earth the male of the species has to go and make life so ever loving complicated is beyond me. Take these soldier boys for instance. No, I mean really take them ... as in away ... as in far, far away.

"Hi."

I really don't like being interrupted when I'm cooking but as a general rule I try and not bite people's head off about it so I said, "Hi. Watcha need?"

"Uh ... my name is Derek ... Derek Harris ... uh ... Pvt. Derek Harris."

I nodded and kept fixing the soup.

"Er ... whatcha fixing?"

I glanced his direction. "You hungry?"

He gave me a pathetic look. "Starving to death."

I snorted. "Boys are always starving to death."

I guess I got lucky and he didn't get upset by being called a boy when by rights I suppose he was a man albeit one not too much older than me. Curiously he asked, "Know a lot of boys?"

I shrugged. "Yes and no. Had a big brother who had a ton of friends that were over at our house all the time. Had a couple of good friends that were guys too." I shrugged again.

He sighed. "I don't have nothing but sisters. I'm stuck in the middle with three on each side. All of them still living at home last time I was there." After a bit he asked, "What about them others? Are they ... you know ... man haters?"

I nearly laughed but kept it to myself. "They're impartial; they growl at everyone."

"Oh."

I thought he'd move on but instead he asked again, "So watcha fixin'?"

"Soup."

"I can see that. I mean what kind. It smells good."

About that time his stomach growled almost as loud as Gayle had when one of the guys had reopened a cut she'd just finished cleaning out. This time I did snicker out loud. "I swear, it has gotta be attached to the soldier gene or something. All I have to do is throw a pot of something together and all I hear are stomach grumbles."

"You aren't a soldier?"

"Not strictly speaking," I answered honestly. "I'm a civilian contractor."

"Then you ain't 18 yet."

That surprised me. "Did you think I was?"

He scratched his head and said, "I've got six sisters, remember? I've learned the hard way to tread carefully when it comes to things like age, weight, and clothing size."

Feeling a little sorry for him I explained that I was making corn chowder. Although I was polite about it to him all I was thinking about was how thankful I was that I had something constructive to use one of these honking, nasty big cans of creamed corn that I am stuck with. I opened it up and dumped it in a big pot, threw in some of those fake potato flakes, and then thinned it out with some water. I added a little more seasoning to give it the taste I was looking for and then stirred it until it was heated through so it wouldn't get lumpy.

I got another surprise when Harris pulled a bag of cornmeal out of his pack and made up some corn cakes (they look like cornmeal pancakes) and also brought out a squeeze bottle of something he called birch syrup.

"Where did you get that stuff?" I asked, noticing it wasn't in standard military packaging.

"Traded for it at a little outpost on our first day. Nice little place though a couple of characters there were a little on the sketchy side. And the women were really something ... er ..."

Rolling my eyes and shaking my head at the thoughts that suddenly jumped up I asked totally out of patience, "Outpost or whorehouse?"

When he got that deer in the headlight look I knew. "Oh for pete sake. You stop at a whorehouse, cat around and do some trading, and then the next day you get hit. Didn't none of you put two and two together?"

Lucy, who had just come from the "ladies side of the trail" asked, "What's the ruckus Pip? Junior here giving you a problem?"

"No," I snapped. "But I'm beginning to wonder about a few things."

"Such as?" she asked with polite interest.

"Did you know there were whorehouses out here that also act like trading posts?"

"I'd heard it. As you can guess our patrol generally steers clear of those types of places when we can help it."

"Well Pvt. Harris and his band of jolly fellows didn't. First day in the outback they run across one and have a good time and then the next day they get hit. Out here. In an area we've been told really doesn't have all that many places where people get together in. In a place that is supposedly ultra full of puss brains so most people would tend to stay out. People with sense anyway. I can't believe their Sergeant would just be ok with them catting around like that."

Pvt. Harris sighed. "Well strictly speaking ... he wasn't. He tore a strip off of the Corporal for it. He'd left him in charge while he went to talk to some old guy about getting a local map of the area that might have stuff marked on it that our intel hadn't been able to provide. Sarge said it was behavior unbecoming a soldier or something like that. He was pretty much yelling too loud to really understand what he was saying exactly."

And that's where things started going downhill. Lucy carried the story to Sgt. Shelly who then went to Corporal Lewiston and grilled him good to get the full story out of him. Then she gave them all a lecture like they probably never got from their fathers about the danger of consorting with the wrong kind of women and exactly what can result from sexually transmitted diseases right on down the line to getting taken for a bunch of chumps with expensive gear just waiting to be plucked like a bunch of babes in the woods.

Dinner was so not fun. And it hasn't been much fun since. The women have lost all confidence in the men and the men are pretty much dying of shame at getting called on the carpet by a woman ... women. So that leaves me stuck in the middle carrying questions and orders back and forth. A helicopter is coming some time tomorrow to extract the men and I don't think anyone thinks it will be soon enough.

But lost confidence or not they are pulling their weight when it comes to guard duty. One woman from our patrol will team up with a man. Josie got Pvt. Harris and I saw her give him an evil grin. He just looked sort of resigned. Guess he wasn't lying about having a bunch of sisters. Sgt. Shelly took the Corporal and I have a feeling she is going to give him a long talk.

For my part I'm wondering how I wound up seeming so much more experienced than men that have been soldiering for a while. None of them are very old, not even the Corporal, but I would have thought being a soldier would have gotten them some training or something that would make them ... I don't know ... better than they are.

Gayle, the only one of the women not able to completely keep her distance because she was tending the wounded, pulled me to the side and asked me if I had learned anything else.

Shaking my head I said, "No. After the grilling Sgt. Shelly gave them they've pretty much shut up. Plus they are all beat and sick at heart. Bedford is taking a turn for the worse isn't he?"

Gayle nodded. "He needs antibiotics and an IV drip, neither of which I have to give him. I'm more convinced than ever that he isn't infected but whatever he has got is driving him into pneumonia. He was refusing care until you convinced him to stop being such a pain in the a$$ but I don't know how much good that I'm doing wasting time and supplies on him."

That was callous but since it was also the truth I didn't saying anything. "If I hear anything I'll tell you."

She was silent for a moment then said, "I've seen you looking at them. What's bothering you?"

I didn't like having my thoughts that obvious but still I wanted answers so I told her. "How come Gayle? Why do I know more than they do? It doesn't make sense?"

"You've done nothing but live in the thick of this for two years, same as we have. In some ways your early training in the city gave you a leg up people like those men will never have."

"Never?"

"Never. They've had time to get used to the idea that the problem of the Infecteds can be managed. They've been spoon fed nothing but that the whole time. Some of them haven't even lost family, or so it appears. They haven't been touched the way you have ... the way our whole patrol has. We all - even you - have a kind of battlefield experience those men lack. Pip, soldiers are rarely born, mostly they are made but not by boot camp and training experiences ... they are made on real battlefields. Not one of us are born soldiers, we've been made into what we are by what we've experienced and lived through. MSgt. Shadwell might be a born soldier but she's the exception, not the rule. There are some others in our unit that are like that, but only a few. Most of us only get this way because we are determined to survive long enough to see the other side of this god-awful mess. It is what comes after that is going to scare the hell out of the great majority."

"What do you mean what comes after?"

She gave me a look then sighed. "You're exactly what worries me most Pip. You and all those younger than you ... the ones that it is getting too hard for you to remember what it was like before, the ones that have had to live so hard and on their own they may never be able to live any other way. That's what gets me up in the morning and what I go to sleep with each night. Dealing with this ... this fiasco ... so that kids like you have a chance. Josie, Shelly, and Lucy feel the same way. We could have been furloughed several times but we stay. None of us have family except each other - at least not that we know of - and ..." She stopped, looked around, and then finished, "And we need some reason to keep going. When the future eventually gets here we want it to be one that is free of the Infected and the crazies that caused them."

She wandered back to the women's side of camp and I've been sitting here ever since trying to decide what made me more uncomfortable ... finding out the women weren't just cardboard characters with guns, that there was more to them than I had thought, or this whole idea about there being something that is supposed to come after this.

But now it is my turn on a shift. I've already got my spot picked out and with Sgt. Shelly's help I've already got it stocked with some big rocks. She only questioned me about it once and was satisfied with my answer. "Just so that you can get down without breaking your neck."

"Would you like to hear how often I had to hit the trees in the North Woods to get away from things that might eat me?"

She snorted and said, "Not tonight I don't. And I don't want your thoughts wandering either so stay sharp. You get too tired, you start to nod off, you come get Josie who is on after you. And keep an eye on Pvt. Winton. He's pi$$ed at the world now that he has the energy for it. He don't want to be here and blames the others for what happened because apparently he's the only one beside their sergeant that didn't ... er ... partake of the goodies offered."

I already knew exactly what she meant. But I don't think it was the whorehouse or what came after it that set him against the world ... as a matter of fact I don't think it is the world he is hacked off at. He strikes me as the type that had a problem with women in general before, and women in authority in particular. I didn't tell Gayle, and maybe I should have, but he was calling our patrol all sorts of nasty names that all had to do with being female. I figure though after everything I have a higher tolerance for that sort of nonsense than the others would. If he starts something I know I can ignore it. I just hope he is smart enough that he doesn't try anything but words with me. I'd really hate to have to hurt his pride and cause an incident. We don't need any more trouble than what we already have.


	136. Chapter 136

Part 136 ****

"Stay the F#$% away from me." Well if that was the way he wanted it that was exactly what he was gonna get. Geez, what a sore head. It was not too long after our shift started that that turned out to be just as true literally as it had been figuratively.

I had taken the long way around to my position and climbed the tree outside of the strips of moonlight that laced the forest. Up in the tree I had a pretty impressive view of the surrounding area. The deciduous trees hadn't fully leafed out yet and there were enough of them that the evergreens didn't really block my line of sight. Sound also got carried to me better than had I been stuck in the bushes on the ground. And when I heard a soft grunt I turned to look in the direction I knew Winton was just in time to see him slump to the ground. From that point things moved pretty fast.

Two guys came out of the bushes but they were looking in and making hand motions so I knew there were more where they'd come from. Lucky for me they were over confident and had stepped into a strip of moonlight or I might have thought I was smelling a skunk or something similar. Man, they really did stink ... but not puss brain stink; this was plain ol' I-haven't-bathed-since-summer stink with a side order of my-clothes-are-so-dirty-they-can-walk-all-by-themselves. I knew I wouldn't get another chance so when they walked beneath my tree I dropped the whole sack of big rocks on them and then gave a loud, powerful whistle with my fingers.

I almost wasn't fast enough at moving positions. I'd stirred a hornet's nest and made someone mad. They went from super stealth tactics to shock and awe so fast I knew they'd practiced this before. But then again, so I had I. It took a little warming up but soon enough the trees were just skinny buildings and the path a crumbling concrete road, the same as it had been in the city. I hit the ground while they were still shooting into the trees and swiped the rifles and ammo bags from the two fallen smellies as fast as Moe had taught me, running down the path like it was an alleyway leading to safety.

Josie was up and covering my escape and then we both got set behind our perimeter.

Sgt. Shelly whispered calmly, "How many?"

"Two less than they started with," I said laying the rifles out so whoever needed one could grab them. "The rest stayed in the bushes."

There was a strangely quiet "poof" and then a shout from the down the trail. "Make that three down," Josie said.

I tried to figure where the shot had come from and from whom when there was another "poof" and another yell, this one a little closer to our camp. Sgt. Shelly grinned and said, "Guess Pvt. Harris wasn't bragging after all." She turned to Josie and said, "You know the drill." To me she said, "Keep an eye on Bedford, and no it isn't babysitting. Gayle said he needs watching."

I stayed low and crawled over to the gurney. Bedford was unconscious which I suppose under the circumstances was good for him, but bad for us if we had to change positions. I heard a couple of more shots from our side and from theirs but no more screams or shouts. I worried that they would try and come up behind us if they weren't already doing it but Sgt. Shelly was ahead of me and had Corporal Lewiston guarding that side.

Two hours passed. Every time we thought they had given up and left Sgt. Shelly would force us to give it a few more minutes and sure enough they'd lose patience and show themselves again by shooting a volley at us.

One thing began to bother me. If this area was so full of puss brains there had to be some close enough to have heard the noise. The smell of sweat and gunfire got in my nose but I was still sniffing the air every few minutes.

Gayle caught me at it and asked, "Anything?"

"Not yet. Geez those men stink. It's hard to catch anything but ..." and then a stiffer breeze than any before it brought with it a scent I knew all too well. "Oh carp."

Gayle looked at me closely as she reloaded. "How sure are you?"

"They're close, maybe down by the creek. You'll hear the screaming soon enough."

Two minutes later there was a barber shop quartet of yells and more gunfire ... but not directed at us. Josie took that moment to snicker, "A cook and a bloodhound. We got us a two-for-one this time Shelly."

Without any emotion Sgt. Shelly said, "Shut up and take up your position." She turned to me and asked, "Can you tell how many?"

Trying not to be irritated or embarrassed I told her, "Geez, I've got a good nose, not infrared vision. More than a couple, less than a bunch ... I don't know ... enough of them to cause us problems if anybody panics or they run at us en mass. If you listen you can hear them shuffling through the leaves, making a beeline for the smellies. The one thing I do know is they're moving like their still fresh and healthy."

Lucky for us the puss brains that attacked didn't seem to have formed any kind of hierarchy. They were together by accident, not because they'd been organized by a horde leader. All they wanted was something to eat and they weren't too particular what was on the menu.

==========

Dawn was cracking its back and stretching its muscles to start the day when the last body was tossed onto the pyre.

"God all mighty that stinks," one of the men said putting his coat jacket in front of his nose.

I would have snapped no kidding except I completely agreed with him. The puss brains were worse than the smellies but not by much at all. A couple of the men looked at the pyre and I could tell they weren't having happy thoughts. I wonder if they had gotten to this part yet ... what you do after you've stopped a puss brain from being an immediate threat.

I turned to look at Pvt. Harris and he saw me looking and I could tell he didn't know what to say. I made the mistake of trying to be kind and told him, "You do what you have to and you find a way to live with it."

He shook his head. "You ... you killed ... two of them. With just a bat."

"In a firefight I'm not too good with a gun. My glasses tend to get all fogged up. Besides ..."

"Besides what?" he asked.

"Besides, you have your way of dealing with what you have to do and I have my way."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked almost snapping.

"Don't get offended. Geez, sensitive much? I just mean you're really good with a gun. Even Sgt. Shelly said something about it. You should train as a sniper or something. If you can do what you did in the dark I imagine you're even better during daylight."

He shook his head. "Actually I'm better at night because that's how I learned to shoot ... when Dad and I would go hunting. The sun wrecks my vision." He took a breath and I could actually see him making the choice not to be mad. "So if you weren't kicking at my shooting what do you mean?"

"I mean that ... that you use the weapon you are comfortable with and I use the weapon that I'm comfortable with. You learned to shoot in the dark, well I learned to put puss brains out of their misery with this," I told him holding my bat up. "I know what I'm doing and I can do it without hurting anyone else. And you don't need to tell me I'm strange, I've heard it enough."

He sat looking at me for a moment before saying, "Yeah you're strange ... but if seems to work for you." I swear guys need to come with an instruction manual. Like maybe where the off button or volume is because he started talking again when I was in the middle of making sure all of our supplies were intact. "Tell me again. Were you really stuck in the city after Z Day? The news said they didn't blow the bridges until they were sure that no uninfecteds remained."

I snorted. "And you believed them? There were thousands of us still in the city and uninfected."

We continued to "discuss" things and how they happened though Gayle snapped that if we were going to "bicker like a couple of two-year-olds" she'd find us something constructive to do with our time. We ignored her but did tone it down a little and then stopped all together when we heard the others going through the packs of the smelly men.

One of the men said, "Crazies. They had to be."

I looked at Pvt. Harris and asked, "Crazies?"

It was Corporal Lewiston that answered for him. "People that have chosen to get rid of their civilized nature, if they had one to begin with. In some places they cause more problems than the Infected do."

I grumbled, "More fun and games. Infecteds, smellies, crazies ... the list just goes on and on. And I thought being cooped up in the city was bad." I looked around and then sighed. "How bad is Winton? Gayle looks hacked and she usually doesn't have the energy to get this bad until after the first cup of coffee."

Corporal Lewiston growled, "They koshed him so hard they broke his skull. They half scalped him at the same time. Damn savages. He's laid out beside Bedford but I doubt he'll make it back to base. There's ... stuff ... leaking out of one of his ears." He was as foul as Gayle and I don't blame him for it but there was no need to take the conversation the direction he decided to take it. "How I'm going to explain this to his mother I don't know. Why didn't you cover his back?"

The question caught me off guard which made me too honest. "'Cause he told me to F off and leave him alone and because he's the soldier, not me. I did what I was supposed to and took up my position ... he didn't even go to the position Sgt. Shelly had assigned to him but into the bushes on the other side of the trail."

Lewiston tried to deny it. "He wouldn't disobey an order like that."

I stood there and crossed my arms and just looked at him. I wasn't nasty. I wasn't rude. I didn't buck his authority. I just looked. But he sure did start to squirm. Finally, he turned and walked away; a gloating person might have said he stomped away in a royal snit. Prissy pants. They need to plant that guy behind a desk because he sure doesn't belong out here leading a patrol. I shook my head and went to clean up so I could make something that passed for an omelet even if the eggs were more fake than the spray tan the head cheerleader used to get in the middle of winter.


	137. Chapter 137

Part 137 ****

"Ahhhhh, peace and quiet at last and room to stretch. Place even smells better."

Josie was being a smart aleck in a way that only she could get away with but I have to say I completely agreed with her. However, my only comment was a shrug.

Josie poked me with a stick before she snickered and threw it on the fire. "Seems poor Pvt. Harris couldn't get no lovin' no matter how hard he tried to chat you up."

I was definitely not going there.

Josie scooted so she was out of the smoke and gave me a long look. "You really don't do you?"

"Don't what?" I asked pretty sure I didn't want to be part of the conversation.

"Men, boys, males. You ain't a hater but you don't seem to want one ... or even borrow one for a little while ... for some private usage."

"No."

She got a serious look on her face after she figured out she'd run into one of my personal taboos. "You know I'm just messing ... most of the time ... right?"

Frankly I was surprised she cared. I looked at her and said, "Yeah, I get it. And yeah I know you don't mean anything bad by it. I also know everybody expects a girl my age to be boy crazy or something stupid like that. And no I'm not emotionally stunted ... I've heard that too but I'm not. I just don't ... don't ... Look, I just don't go there and let's leave it at that."

"'Cause you're not sure you like that flavor?"

I sighed having had that question posed as well. "I know what flavor I'd like if I did like a flavor. I'm just not into it."

"Honey your daddy isn't around to introduce you to Prince Charming ... even if such an a$$hole did exist. You're gonna have to put yourself out if you plan on having any fun in this life."

Irritated I slammed the storage box on the dog cart shut. "I don't have to do anything. As a matter of fact I don't know why I should even want to. Look around ... anybody that wants that kind of complicated trouble ... never mind."

Gayle decided to do her own digging and teased me with, "You nursing a broken heart for some farm boy?"

"No!"

Lucy smiled and muttered, "That no sure sounds like a yes."

I was just about to explode but I am no fool. We are in the middle of nowhere, deep in puss brain territory. These women, regardless of what they say, could up and leave me with nothing except some hurt. I reined my temper in and sat down. "Look, I haven't got the time for that kind of kid stuff. In the city I saw ... things ... happen to girls when they made the choice to go down that road. Most of them were older than me but not all of them. I saw what it did to them ... got most of them dead or worse. I don't want to wind up like that. Call it how my parents raised me or some kind of trauma disorder or whatever else you want to make up, I don't care." I sighed. "Now I'm asking you nicely, please just drop it. Maybe I am broke inside or something ... how many girls my age do you know that have lost count of the number of people they've had to put out of their misery? If I was a different kind of girl from what I am I sure as heck wouldn't be out in these woods cooking for four deadly amazons who are doing whatever it is they are supposed to be doing. And for the record, I don't hate guys ... or people in general ... I'm just choosy about who I hang around with."

Josie said, "Hey! You're hanging with us. I feel special. Gayle don't you feel special?"

Before things could get worse Sgt. Shelly said, "Oh you're 'special' all right. Now knock it off. She holds the coffee ... I like my coffee ... I like it even better when it tastes like coffee and not like bear $# %. So let's keep the cook happy ... m'k?"

Then Josie, Gayle, and Lucy started acting silly ... well, sillier than I've ever seen them anyway ... and then abruptly lost interest in whatever game they were playing and started talking logistics and grid patterns and junk like that while I provided the coffee that Sgt. Shelly liked so much that she'd tell them to knock off the teasing.

After thinking about it I guess they are trying to get to know me. I'm just not sure I want them to know me because if they do they'll probably have even more things to laugh at me over. If they really knew me stupid stuff like Pvt. Harris not getting that I wasn't interested would be the least of my problems.

And speaking of problems the helicopter that picked up the men soldiers brought new orders for our patrol. We aren't going to be here a week ... we are going to be out here a month. There is only going to be one re-supply ... and that's assuming we can make it to the drop off point and that weather or other stuff doesn't interfere. The women are putting a good face on it, or they don't seem worried anyway. Sgt. Shelly is a little stiff but she's like that normally. Gayle looks irritated but that's her normal state of being too. It is really Josie and Lucy that let me know that stuff is bubbling beneath the surface ... Lucy is quiet which means she is stressed and trying to control her stutter, and Josie is making too many jokes and irritating people more than she normally does. I'll put up with it so long as she doesn't get too vicious and too nosey.

I guess, if I'm being honest, I'm a little worried ... scared ... about tomorrow. It isn't anything that I haven't faced before but I'm in completely new-to-me territory and I won't have anyone around in case there is a problem. Tomorrow the women head out to rendezvous with another patrol to pick up some maps and information. Due to the distance they are going to have to travel they will likely be gone overnight. They will be a full day out and a full day back and if something detains them they may be gone two nights/three days. They are taking MREs with them which leaves me wondering exactly what I'm supposed to be doing if they are gone so much that all they are going to need are MREs.

I thought I knew what this job was when I signed up, now I'm kinda wondering. Actually the alone time doesn't sound all that awful; it is being alone in unfamiliar territory that is bothering me. That and Sgt. Shelly pretty much started off saying I was not to leave camp. I finally got her to admit that to do my job I would have to be able to go at least as far as the creek but she wasn't happy about it. I am to be armed at all times. And careful. And just about everything my parents ever told me to be. I so don't need a second mother or a big sister at this point in my life. I think if she could think of a way to drag me along to this rendezvous she would but since the terrain isn't made for hotdog carts I have to stay here. Which is my job to begin with, whether either one of us likes it or not.


	138. Chapter 138

Part 138 ****

Had a lot of time to think today. Too much time.

There was an old lady at our church that Dad would grumble about all the time. When he got particularly bad Mom would pinch him for being rude about the elders. Funny I should remember that. Dad and Mom didn't fight but they could get irritated with each other. Maybe I would have noticed more as I got older but I honestly don't remember them ever fighting or even raising their voices at each other. Dad did like to irritate Mom and then laugh and Mom could give as good as she got when in the mood. They were both good sports most of the time but about this old lady, for some reason Mom really didn't like Dad's attitude. I think the old lady used to babysit Toddie or something like that or maybe she was some distant relation to Mom, I don't know. Anyway I sat with Dad too many times and listened to his side of things when he would come in beat up from a bad day at work. Mom took care of him but I guess sometimes he just needed me and our ritual late night secret snack the same way Mom needed Toddie and their ritual of getting the decorations down the day after Thanksgiving ... it was tradition, something to count on, and basically just one of those strange parent things you aren't supposed to understand until you're a parent.

This particular old lady was a lot of trouble for Dad and the other deputies. She called the cops all the time ... if she couldn't find one of her cats after checking for like five minutes out the front door only when the cop got there they'd find it sitting on the back porch. If someone was in her parking space at church on Wednesday nights you better pray you had a handicap tag on your car otherwise you were in for it even if it was just an accident. If she thought someone was "stepping out" on their spouses because "there might be a murder when the spouse found out about it" and you knew that she'd be the one telling. If she heard noises in the middle of the night it meant something must be going on; and, if she didn't hear noise in the middle of the night, it was too quiet so something must be going on. Children playing in the road in front of her house, children playing too loud in the park that was behind her house. It was always the kind of stuff that took Dad and the other deputies away from the serious stuff like burglaries, domestic calls, drunks, and stuff like that but if they hadn't answered her calls and it was something real it would have been bad.

I don't know why I'm thinking about all of that stuff except this woman was just ... geez ... she was just I don't know what. All I know is that I don't want to turn into her if I manage to live as long as she had. For all I know she is still alive; I can't imagine a puss brain really wanting to get close enough to chomp on her ... she was liable to chomp first. She wasn't what you would call a happy person - completely pessimistic to be honest - and I remember she kept predicting to anyone who would listen that I'd never see my next birthday because I was such a runt, sick all the time, that my brain was mis-wired, you name it. I think that more than anything really bothered Dad. And all those useless memories bubbling to the surface only because I remembered what she used to say when people asked how she was doing: "I guess you can get used to anything."

That's how I've felt all day today. I guess you can get used to anything ... whether you like it or not. Unfortunately, it seems that I've gotten used to being around people again. I warned myself and warned myself all along that this could happen if I wasn't careful. And now I realize that I've started letting my guard down and worse ... caring about them. I should know better. How many times does something have to happen before the lesson sticks permanently? You let people in you are going to get hurt. I feel ten kinds of stupid but I don't know how to turn it off now that it has started up again.

I miss Sgt. Shelly's quiet confidence and always knowing what to tell people to do. I miss Gayle being around because even though she was way too easily irritated it turns out that she is just as fast to get irritated for you as at you. I miss Lucy's acceptance. She was the first, and she believes in me in a way the others don't. Believe it or not I even miss Josie. She makes me uncomfortable, not because we are so different but because I'm finding too many ways we are similar. But in a way because of that she understands me better than the others do. It doesn't stop her from picking at me but I'm learning to live with that too. It is like having four un-asked for older sisters or aunties. I'm not sure I want that kind of pressure.

They left out early this morning after an oversized lecture where the four of them told me what to do, what not to do, what to watch out for, etc. I know they meant well but it said a lot about how little confidence they have in me ... or at least in my survival skills. Now granted I'm not Daniel Boone or Mountain Man or even a mountain woman but I can do for myself just fine. Unless of course I run into a horde. The way my luck is ...

Today has been fairly quiet. I did have a run in with a puss brain but it was sad rather than scary. It ... he ... was probably one of those that escaped from the places they were being moved to from urban areas east of the Mississippi. Someone had done a number on him. I'm not sure if it was done by the scientists as they tried to find a way to minimize the risks of the infecteds' violence, if some cruel people had caught him and tortured him for sport, or if there had been some kind of accident and the infected has healed it enough to hide it from being obvious.

He had no teeth. And no fingernails either. He looked worse than those pictures in the history books of places like prisoner of war internment camps. The clothes he had on hung like rags; his skin wasn't much better.

I was down at the creek gathering some wild food for a couple of experiments. When I realized what was hung up in some elderberry shrubs - he didn't even have enough energy to push his way through - I don't think I've ever felt so sorry for a puss brain and I've seen some pretty sorry things happen to them. It was like a wreck that was so bad you just couldn't look away. There's no way he posed any direct danger to me but I knew I couldn't let him contaminate the water source. Where puss brains are concerned there are very few I feel badly about releasing from their misery but this one is probably going to stick with me for a long time. This one was as bad as having to deal with a kid puss brain and that's pretty bad.

I burnt the body on the ashes of the previous pyre after making note of any identifying marks, hair color, and all that on the form we have to fill out. It's been bothering me ever since even though I try not to wonder where it ... he ... came from and who could have done that to him. I can't start pitying them. I've got a job to do. There's no making them better. Whoever they used to be is long gone and they pose a threat to society that is so big it nearly destroyed our country ... and has destroyed others. As a group their deeds are too horrific to excuse, even out of pity. But there are individual puss brains that just get to you; especially when you know that they've suffered too.

Depressing. But I guess you can get used to anything. Because it didn't stop me from doing what I had to do which is put the puss brain out of its misery - and mine - and find some way to extend our patrol's food supply.


	139. Chapter 139

Part 139 ****

Well at least the Duck Goulash didn't go to waste. It wasn't exactly properly appreciated but then again I have to remember a person isn't supposed to do something so they get appreciated for it, they are supposed to do it because they appreciate the doing.

Oh no! Where are all these old sayings coming from?! I'm turning as strange as the old lady. Not that old lady, the one I was thinking of yesterday, I mean the new one. Carp! Maybe I'm the one that is three-quarters crazy now. Old ladies, bears, dogs, ducks, and puss brains. They are turning my brain to mush. OK, forget it, I don't want this notebook to turn into something that reads like a soap opera ... geez, I'm all turned inside out. I hate feeling this discombobulated, like I don't know what I'm doing. It used to be writing in this notebook helped, now I'm not so sure.

I don't know what this notebook is supposed to be about. Half the time it is just a place for me to vent. The rest of the time it is a mix of fear or boredom or just being lonely. Maybe that is what all notebooks or journals are ... a place you can spew. Let's face it, life has been pretty spew-worthy for a long while.

I used to ask Mom why she kept a journal - what she called her House Account Book - which was sort of like a cross between a garden journal, a book on the house budget, and a personal diary - and she told me it was to help get things out of her head so that her mind wasn't so cluttered with stuff she wanted to remember but didn't necessarily want to have to remember all the time. I wish I knew why I like this notebook so much. I'm not too far from running out of paper and I only have a couple of pencils left. Better figure it out sooner or later before I have go to the work of finding more.

In the meantime ... less confusion, more clarity.

Yesterday was depressing. Last night was not much fun either as something was prowling around which leads me to think I should start figuring out a way to string our supplies up in the trees or risk losing them. I can lock the hot dog cart but that won't stop a bear or a determined human. For that matter when the women are gone maybe I should try stringing me up in the trees ... maybe like a hammock or something ... or a tree house or hunting stand. I'd take a hole in the ground if I had one only something big might dig me out or I could get blocked in. I think I like the tree thing much better after all.

This morning was better, pretty good actually. At least for a while. There were ducks down at the creek which gave me the idea of using my fishing net for something other than fish. I managed to catch three ducks in one throw ... well four but the forth one got away so it really wasn't caught. Man were they angry ... and noisy. I stopped their quacking as quickly as I could and then got on about the business of getting rid of innards and feathers. This is where things got more interesting than I had prepared for.

It seems that bears are not averse to duck innards. I'd tossed the nasty stuff to the side on top of the ashes of the pyre until I could set it to blaze again - there were still bones that needed to be dealt with from the smellies and yesterday's puss brain. Dumb me. I was never this careless in the North Woods and why I would be so stupid here I don't know.

My first inkling that something was up was a low grunt. Before I even turned I knew what it was and before I finished turning I was heading for the nearest tree. Bear must have wanted something a little more lively than duck innards as it came after me at a trot ... not too fast but not slow either; just speedy enough that I wasn't far up the tree before it was at the trunk. I guess either the young male bear was in the mood to play with its food or it was hungrier than I thought before it was climbing the tree after me. Great.

Then there was barking. I thought either I was going barking mad or God decided I needed wolves on top of bears. But then I realized wolves don't arroooooooo and don't have big floppy ears. Three more dogs shot out of the underbrush to go with the first only they had short ears and big round faces ... and sharp teeth. Lastly out of the bushes came what I thought at first was another bear ... only bears don't carry shotguns.

KABLAM!

The bear fell out of the tree. Heck, I nearly fell out of the tree. It sounded like a freaking train had exploded. When I dared to come out of my crouch against the tree trunk I saw the injured bear fighting with the dogs.

"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!" the lump of humanity bellowed that looked like a walking mound of furs and rugs. It took me a moment to realize she was talking to the dogs and not me.

KABLAM!

The shotgun went off again but didn't deal a death blow. As a matter of fact it only hacked off the bear and it turned on the gun owner who squawked and tried to reload but wasn't going very fast.

I'm an idiot. A grade A, first class idiot. But if I hadn't joined in there would have been another corpse for the pyre ... or part of one anyone after the bear finished off what they wanted.

I slid down the tree and grabbed the rifle that Sgt. Shelly had left for me and I ran up and stuck it in the bear's ear and pulled before my good sense had time to catch up. I summarily landed on my backside and then cracked my head on a rock where I fell over because I hadn't really had time to set myself for the recoil. As for the bear ... well I'd like to see the living creature that could take a rifle going off point blank in its ear and survive beyond a few steps.

I came to with dog noses in my ears, shirt collar, and another part of my anatomy they had no business sniffing.

"You ok?" I heard a scratchy old voice ask. I was afraid to answer. The dogs where getting a little frisky and I had a feeling had I opened my mouth they would have licked in there too. The voice snapped, "Get off you blasted muts! Let me see what it is."

As soon as the dogs gave me some breathing space I said, "It is me." Hearing my voice got the floppy eared one all excited again and back it came sniffing. I couldn't help it. Dog noses tickle when they get under your collar. I squealed.

The old lady laughed and said, "Henrietta seems ta like you."

"Tell her thank you but I bathed not that long ago," I responded right before dissolving into squeals again. How do dogs know your one ticklish spot?

Finally I was able to get up and away. "Down. Geez you crazy dog. Do I look like a squeaky toy?"

"Ya sound just like one," the old lady laughed. "Now what's a child like you doing out in these woods all alone? There's bad men out here."

I looked at her and I could see a bunch of loose screws floating around behind her eyes but I could also tell she was harmless. Or as harmless as people get these days. I learned the difference in the city. Some homeless were ok ... some were definitely not. "I'm not a child ... I'm sixteen. And I'm not alone, my patrol will be back today."

She tilted her head and she looked just like a bird ... well sorta anyway. She wasn't especially built like one but she pursed her lips and blinked at me so that it reminded me of a curious blue jay. "Hmmm, one of those are you. Heard they were getting kids younger and younger. Different in my time but my parents and grandparents said it was that way in theirs. Got anything to eat?"

"Will have if my ducks aren't ruined."

As it turns out the duck carcasses weren't ruined. And as it turns out Mary - that's the name of the old woman - is crazy all right but she knows stuff too. Like how to deal with a bear ... and how to share. Tonight we shared the ducks. Tomorrow we'll share the bear. She's got some drying in some kind of folding oven she has rigged up. Some she chopped up and cooked for the dogs.

"Providential I ran across you. Hate to see all this meat go to waste or attract them freaks from the city. If your friends come too-morry then even more can get eat before it spoils."

Having learned well at Dad's and Mr. Svenson's knees I asked, "Why hunt something too big for you to eat before it spoils?"

She nodded her head. "Don't normally. This fella here though, he was becoming a nuisance. Felt him tracking me for a bit then he caught up and kilt one of my dogs last week so I been trackin' it to give it some justice back."

I figured I was the last person to complain about that and then she noticed what I was doing - gathering nettle with gloves on - and that I knew about plants and she started quizzing me and I actually learned a couple of things once I got beyond being irritated at her being so nosey. She also kept trying to nose into the hot dog cart so I put a padlock on it after I took out all the supplies I needed for the duck goulash.

Mary said she ran away the "home" where her kids had stuck her before Z-Day. There used to be more older folks with her but the others had either died or given up and gone back to towns that they had passed. "Lotta foolishness if you ask me. Who wants an old woman or old man? Ain't like there is much we can do. The kind of man that would want us around I ain't interested in being around if you ain't too young to understand what I mean."

I understood all right. Gross.

I think Mary is like me, she was hungry for someone to talk to ... or to talk at since she didn't seem to need me to answer most of the time. It wasn't until the sun went down that she stopped talking. Now she lays in a small tent near the fire with her dogs ranged around her for warmth and protection.

I kept thinking that the patrol would get back today, then tonight, but I guess I need to give that idea up. It wouldn't be all that smart for them to try and move in the dark. There's been no word on the radio either. I mean nothing. Probably because there is nothing to hear. Or maybe the radio just isn't strong enough to get through all the hills and mountains where I'm at. Or maybe I'm doing something wrong.

I'm just glad Mary showed up even if she is crazy. Being crazy together seems to be better than being crazy alone.


	140. Chapter 140

Part 140 ****

Everyone leaves eventually and sometimes they don't mean to ... but then sometimes they do. Mary may have wanted someone to listen to her but seems she has even less of a tolerance level for people than I do ... or maybe it is attention span ... or maybe she is just afraid if she stops for more than a little while she won't have what it takes to keep going again. That last is what she said anyway.

I mean she was nice about it. We shared the bear meat though she took most of it for the dogs who seemed to be bottomless pits. She just got ready to go and just left ... what Dad used to call having an itchy foot. So I'm alone again.

And I do mean alone because the women still aren't back. This is the fourth night they've been gone. I expected one, maybe two, but not four. On the third night Mary suggested that perhaps it was a test and I figured that was possible, I mean anything is I guess. You think you kinda have a feel for what someone will do but I thought for a while there that maybe I didn't. But after Mary left I changed my mind again. Something has happened. I don't know what, but something definitely has. They gave me too many lectures that were too real for me to really believe that they intended to be gone twice as long as their worst-case plan was.

And this is the part that didn't get covered. The part about what to do if they don't come back, like it was unthinkable that none of them would. Why I didn't think that must mean that I still have some stupid left in me. But I don't want to be any more stupid than what I've already been. Stupid can get you in trouble. Stupid can get you dead ... or worse, chomped and infected.

I've been giving it some thought. First off, I don't want to get in trouble for going AWOL; I may be a contractor but I did sign a paper to do a job and don't want to get a bad reputation. Second off ... or secondly or whatever ... it is too soon to give up on them. Worst case could be just a lot worse than they figured it would be and what if they are expecting me to be here as a fallback position? What if maybe one or more of them got injured on their way back here? If I leave they could be in a lot of trouble.

But I can't be a fallback position if I don't have any supplies left and that is exactly what is going to happen if I don't take some action. I've sat around on my bumper long enough waiting for something to happen, waiting for the women to come back. I haven't been the waiting around type since early times in the city and even then half the reason I was always getting in trouble was because I was trying to do something, anything, to make things better. But I know what I'm doing now ... most of the time ... and I'm just not going to wait around anymore.

I mean I am going to wait around ... I'm just not going to wait around doing nothing. I've worked it out; some of it anyway. It came to me while I talked with Mary ... or listened to her talk at me. It's early June, time to get off my bumper and get ready to prepare for the winter. I hear winters around here are pretty ferocious; different from the Northern Woods but just as bad. We are at higher elevations around here so the cold is going to come sooner and last longer and the wild forage is going to reflect that. I have my notes from Marty and Mary got a kick out of teaching me some more.

If the women come back and things still go according to plan after that we will be out "in the wild" until the end of June or so. We'll go back for a week of RNR and then be sent back out here someplace. Mary said mid-July is when things really take off and you only have about a month or so to really get what you can against the hard times. But even now, early in the season - or at least this is what Mary is calling it - there are things you can gather for the future.

Already know all about the arrowhead and cattail. You can't really preserve the arrowhead but it is available for most of the year anyway. The cattail I know all about already and I started collecting and preparing that today. I need the starch anyway to make what buckwheat flour I have go further. Mary also showed me wild onions, morels, something she called Indian Plums, and fiddleheads. My goal is to use as little of the military food as possible to see how far I can get.

In fact my dinner tonight was fiddleheads with morels. I steamed some fiddleheads until they were tender-crisp then I took the morels and chopped them and dry-fried them to get rid of most of the water in them. I drained the little bit of liquid in the pan off and then put a little bit of butter powder and some of the olive oil in the skillet to sauté the mushroom. I tossed the fiddleheads back in there and then seasoned it with a little bit of salt and pepper and yum yum. I almost ate too much. Mr. Svenson would have said I was full as a tick. I hope wherever he and the rest of the Singing Water people are at they are safe and healthy and doing what they need to to get set for next winter. It seems a long way off but Mary said it would be here before you know it.

Tomorrow I've got a project that I'm not sure is going to work but it might and there is enough that it is worth trying. I am going to pickle some fiddle heads. I still have the jars and stuff that those nasty pickled turkey gizzards came in. And I've got a super big pot from the military cooking kit that came with my cart. Mary showed me some wild dill and told me how some of the people in local settlements do it. I canned with Mom so I should get this right ... I just hope the lids re-seal.

I'm also going to dry some morel mushrooms and wild onions so that I can have them off-season. I'm pretty sure I can use the reflector oven for that, shouldn't be any worse than drying cattails which is how I did it at my cabin. The wild plums aren't ripe yet. In fact some of the trees are still in bloom so I might miss them in this area but I should still be able to get them in other areas.

And the other thing I'm going to do tomorrow, if the women don't show up, is I'm going to set me a fish line and set some snares. Most of my snares will be for animals but I have an idea after listening to some of the stories that Mr. Svenson told that I can make man-sized snares as well. The only thing I'm worried about it maybe snaring something bigger than I can deal with ... like another bear. That's all I need.


	141. Chapter 141

Part 141 ****

Well, I know my man-sized snares work. Not because I caught something else in the stupid thing but because I caught myself. I actually didn't think it was going to work so I was testing it. I am so glad that no one has to know about it until Judgment Day and by then they'll be more worried about their own stupidity getting found out than paying attention to mine. Lucky for me this time stupid didn't hurt too badly. Lucky too that I hadn't pulled the tree down any further than I did or for sure I probably would have wound up dancing in the air like a yoyo. As it is I kinda think I know how those bungi cord rides used to feel. I only wound up with one leg in the snare and balanced on my shoulders but it still wasn't the easiest thing to get down and I had to be super careful how I cut myself loose so I wouldn't waste the rope.

But at least I know that it works. Whether it works on anything heavier than me I can't say for sure. I'm going to reserve the snares to cover my back and sides and keep them off the main trail. I am not even going to take the chance in one of the women stepping in one because if I live I'll never hear the end of it.

I'm really tired tonight but it is because I got a lot accomplished. In addition to the snares I've got five pints of pickled fiddleheads and four pints of pickled cattail sprouts sitting wrapped in tea towels inside the hot dog cart. I know they are good because I tasted what wouldn't fit into the jars. I'd like to make more but I don't have any more jars. I wonder if I can requisition some or maybe I should ask Sherry ... I mean Sher. I've also got a bunch of cattail roots that should finish drying tomorrow. I probably could have had them done tonight but I had to mess with the reflector oven some until I figured how close I could put them to the fire without cooking them.

I've tried real hard to keep my eyes open. In the city I kept my eyes open for stuff we could salvage, especially salvageable stuff that could be eaten. In the Northern Woods I learned to keep my eyes open for forage. Out here I'm doing the same thing only the stuff I forage for is a little different ... at least some of it is. The one thing that hasn't changed though is I need to keep my eyes open for things that want to eat me, including puss brains.

I wouldn't say this area is infested with infecteds, certainly not as bad as the city or anywhere near what you get from a horde, but they're still around. I put down two today but let a third one go on its way since it seemed to have someplace to go in a hurry and wasn't bothering me or making a mess all over the place. That's the way we did it in the city and I think it will work out here as well. It does make me wonder what it was doing going so fast in a beeline but then again, I kinda don't want to know. I've got enough on my plate without trying to figure that kind of stuff out.

But back to what I saw other than another bear, this one a small light brown one that seemed to have its own place to be in more of a hurry than I was comfortable with. The bear skin rug was one of the things I really wished that I could have brought with me but there was just no way and it doesn't make any sense to try and make another one when I still wouldn't be able to haul it around. Mary took the other bear skin but since her dogs had already been at it I didn't say anything.

Geez, obviously I'm more tired than I thought, I just can't seem to stay on topic tonight. Anyway, I got several hatfuls of morel mushrooms and they are already dried and in a plastic container in the cart. There are other mushrooms but I don't recognize them so I'm not going to risk getting poisoned by trying them. I know what porcini and puffball mushrooms look like and Marty - that cook for the trader convoy - said those are a big item in August so I wrote that down in my "field guide" that I am making.

I also found some wild garlic. I thought it was wild onion at first until I got a good whiff of it. Whew! Dracula beware. Found some burdock and I'm going to get some tomorrow to try and make Mom's recipe for glazed burdock. Tried some lamb's quarter and some sheep sorrel today. Yummy. I especially like the lemony taste of the sheep sorrel. It was puckerlicious.

This is a great area but if I want to really take advantage of foraging I'm going to have to start going a little further afield like I did in the Northern Woods. I haven't completely used up everything within sight of the camp but if I continue I'll have to start going too long between harvests of things. There is a narrow place that I can cross the water and I'm going to try to check out what is on the other bank tomorrow. And after that we will see.

Best part of today? I had an omelet. No seriously, I did. Those ducks that I caught a couple of have nests along the bank of the river or creek or whatever that thing is called. I got the peedoodle pinched out of my hand for swiping an egg out of a nest but it was worth the ouch. One of those duck eggs equals about two chicken eggs. Didn't taste bad either or maybe I was just so hungry for an egg of any type that I didn't notice. Hard to say and to be honest I don't care.

I put chickweed in the omelet and some wild onion and if I had had some cheese I would have been in hog heaven. That's what Dad used to say ... hog heaven. Silly.

OK, I guess maybe it is ok to still cry every once in a while. I don't want to do it much and I sure won't do it where anyone can see me but a few tears now and then might not be so awful.


End file.
